All Over Again
by kahhtina
Summary: Set following the end of "Falling," Mary and Matthew have been married for approximately two years. Multi-chapter fic. A modern Downton Abbey AU.
1. Chapter 1

_I wanted to do something special for MM Celebration Day on Tumblr, so I decided to create a one-shot that continues my modern AU fic "Falling." This story is set after Mary and Matthew have been married for about two years. I've debated continuing the story after I finish "A Good Argument," so this will be a start at least._

_Beware of a few spoilers for "A Good Argument" and "Falling," if you haven't read them. And then go read them. :)_

_Downton Abbey is the property of Julian Fellowes, I've simply commandeered his characters. Downton quotes are italicized._

_Enjoy!_

* * *

**Chapter One**

"Mary, I know you and Matthew are busy, so I hate to ask you this, but would you mind watching Clara tomorrow afternoon?"

Sybil's plea caused Mary to press her lips together. She was grateful her youngest sister couldn't see her face over the phone.

"I don't know, Sybil," she replied after a moment's hesitation. "I have an article I'm working on and I know Matthew brought home some work from the firm." And she wasn't too keen on watching a two-year-old. Mary knew she wasn't exactly good with children.

"Oh, please," Sybil entreated, her voice becoming more panicked over the phone. "Tom _has_ to go to this blasted, I mean silly, work event and he won't go alone. It's so last minute, I don't think I could find a sitter for her."

As Mary debated her sister's request, her own husband walked into the room, a towel around his waist that indicated he'd just showered.

"Who are you talking to?" Matthew asked, walking over to the refrigerator and peering inside.

"Sybil," Mary murmured to him. "Hold on, let me talk to Matthew and I'll call you back."

"You're a darling," Sybil said.

Mary hung up, Matthew turning to her as he munched on some cold pizza.

"What are you going to talk to me about?" he asked through a bite of pizza. Mary wrinkled her nose at his comfortably barbarous habits.

"Sybil asked if we could watch Clara tomorrow. Apparently she and Tom have some work party they can't get out of," Mary informed him.

"Sounds like fun," Matthew said honestly, causing Mary to frown. "What's with the look?"

"I don't know if we'll be any good at watching a baby," she said. The idea made her anxious just thinking about it, causing her to wring her hands together nervously.

"Oh, come on, she's your niece," he replied, setting his pizza slice on a napkin before moving towards Mary. "_Our_ niece," he corrected with a smile as he wrapped his arms around her. "You've been around children before."

"Yes, but not as the sole responsible adult," Mary said in a tense voice. "And what do you even do with two-year-olds?"

"They play," Matthew said gently, his lips pressing into her hair. "And you play with them. I assure you, they're very skilled at making up games on their own."

Mary sighed, closing her eyes for a moment. "Matthew, you know how I feel about children. And how they feel about me," she said in a small voice, pulling out of Matthew's embrace and crossing the room to sit on the sofa.

Matthew watched her sit down, his face falling. He knew Mary said she didn't want children and he almost believed her when they were alone. But every time he looked at her face when they saw parents playing with their kids in the park, or visited Sybil and Tom's and saw Clara interact with them, or watched Sybil's abdomen grow each week with another baby, he knew she was only putting up a front. She wanted a child, but she was afraid. Afraid that something would happen to take them away or that the child wouldn't take to her as she wanted. Afraid Matthew would be the preferred parent or that she wouldn't know what to do.

"Clara adores you," Matthew said after a stint of silence. He approached her, seating himself on the arm of the sofa. Mary scoffed and he reached out to give her shoulder a squeeze. "If only you'd give her the chance, you'd see that."

"She always seems afraid of me," was Mary's reply.

"She's just shy," Matthew insisted. "She only needs a chance to get to know you better."

"Do you promise to help me if I say yes?" Mary asked, meeting his eyes.

Matthew smiled, leaning down to kiss the tip of her nose. "But of course. What are husbands for?" he questioned.

Mary pressed her lips together. "Numerous things, I believe," she quipped, her fingers tracing over the exposed skin at his waist.

"More than just that," he replied with a chuckle as Mary leaned up, kissing him hard on the mouth. "Don't you need to tell Sybil we'll do it?" he asked, tearing himself away from her lips.

"I'll text her later," Mary said, reaching her hands up to rest them on Matthew's cheeks, attempting to pull his lips back to hers.

"Call your sister back," he instructed, slipping out of her reach. "I'm going to get dressed."

"Spoilsport," Mary muttered, reaching for her mobile phone as she watched Matthew retreat to their bedroom. He slipped off the towel before he disappeared inside, causing Mary to shout a few swear words at his exposed backside before turning her attention to her mobile. She heard Matthew laugh as she brought the phone to her ear, waiting for Sybil to answer the call.

* * *

Matthew watched from the armchair, feeling rather helpless as Mary tidied up the flat, hiding sharp objects in drawers and covering the corners of the end tables with some plushy fabric in the hopes of keeping Clara from injuring herself. The Bransons were set to arrive in only a few minutes time and Mary was frantic. Matthew saw his wife's visible stress and it pained him.

"Darling, please, stop worrying. We'll watch Clara closely and she's almost three and quite intelligent. Not even a child of Tom's would mistake flowers for food," Matthew said as she attempted to find a higher spot for the shrub that usually sat by the window.

Mary looked up, taking a few deep breaths. "I just don't want anything to happen to her," she replied tersely.

"And nothing will," he replied, reaching his hand out to her. "Everything will be fine, you'll see. _Now come and kiss me_."

Mary smiled in spite of herself, approaching his chair. Matthew pulled her into his lap and kissed her, enjoying the sensation of her fingers tangled in his hair. There was a knock on the door and Mary pulled away, her shoulders tensing once more as she got to her feet. Matthew stood with a sigh, following her to the door.

"Sorry we're late," Sybil apologized, stepping forward to kiss Mary's cheek, her ever-swelling abdomen bumping against Mary. Tom stood behind her, his arms full holding his daughter and a bulky bag containing probably every toy she possessed.

"You're right on time," Mary corrected. Matthew could already hear the caution in her voice, causing him to reach out and rub her back. She cast an apprehensive glance his way and Matthew offered her a reassuring smile.

"This one is a bit of a grump today," Tom warned them as they moved inside. "Aren't you, my wee babby?" Clara responded by burying her face in her father's collar. Tom kissed her dark curls, giving the other adults an exasperated look.

"She woke up when we took her out of the car," Sybil explained. "But she already took a nap today, so she really didn't need another one. There's a change of clothes in the bag as well as anything she could possibly need. Like I said yesterday, if she gets hungry, she likes peanut butter and bananas, but she'll literally eat anything that's edible."

"A human garbage disposal, just like her Da," Tom said proudly. Clara gripped his collar tighter, as though anticipating her parents would depart at any moment.

"So that's where all my food went at uni," Matthew teased as Tom carried Clara over to the sofa.

"Well, so you know it tasted like shi-" Tom began, but Sybil glared at him, anticipating he was about to swear. "It tasted _bad_." He ruffled Clara's curls affectionately.

"We should get going," Sybil said. "Call us if something happens. We'll be back sometime after ten."

"Be good for your auntie and uncle," Tom instructed Clara, kissing her forehead before getting to his feet.

"Da!" Clara protested, her eyes filling with tears as she tried to wrap her arms around Tom's legs as he moved away.

"She'll be fine," Sybil insisted as Mary shot her a worried look. "She won't cry for long."

Sensing Mary's anxiety, Matthew stepped toward Clara, leading the small girl over to the sofa. "Clara, why don't you show me what you brought for us to play with," Matthew said in a voice that soothed Mary as well as Clara.

"Thanks again," Sybil said, kissing Mary's cheek before disappearing out the door with Tom.

With a sigh, Mary shut the door behind her sister, locking it in case Clara got any ideas about following after them. Mary approached the sofa, her heart warming slightly as she watched her husband interact with their niece. Clara's tear-stained face brightened as Matthew removed a plush toy lion from her bag, imitating the lion's roar.

"What's your lion's name, Clara?" Matthew asked, bumping the toy's nose against the small girl's.

"Sybbie," Clara said with a small laugh, wiping at her face.

"And who named her that?" Matthew asked, his face more animated than usual.

"It was Da," Clara replied, glancing up at Mary who forced herself to smile warmly.

"Did he name it after your mama?" Mary ventured, settling herself on the corner of the sofa.

Clara laughed as if that was a silly question. "Sybbie isn't her name. Her name is Ma," Clara replied, taking the toy lion in her arms and hugging it to her chest.

"Ah, I see," Mary said as Matthew unloaded the rest of Clara's toys. He set a few Disney movies on the coffee table and Clara picked up one of the DVDs, her eyes lighting up as she looked at the cover.

"Can we watch, Auntie?" she asked, directing her question to Mary. She looked at the cover, recognizing the film about the ice queen.

"Of course we can," Mary agreed.

Clara smiled, setting the movie back down as she investigated all the toys that had come with her. As this occurred, Matthew's mobile began to ring.

"It's not Tom, is it?" Mary wondered, feeling inadequate, as though her sister didn't trust her to watch her child.

"No, it's the firm," Matthew said, checking the caller I.D. He offered her a sympathetic look, getting to his feet. "I'll just be a minute."

Mary looked rather panicked as he disappeared into their bedroom to answer the call. Feeling as though she'd been abandoned, she frowned. Clara looked up at her, her eyes pooling with tears as she saw her aunt's face. Noticing this, Mary adopted a smile again, settling herself on the floor beside the girl.

"What else did you bring?" she queried. Clara smiled, handing the toy lion to Mary so she could explain all her other treasures.

"This is Isis," Clara said, holding up a stuffed toy dog. "Grandpapa gave it to me at Christmas, I think. And this is Bunny." Mary recognized the plush rabbit she and Matthew had given Sybil at the baby shower before Clara was born. "I love Bunny best."

"And why is that?" Mary asked, touched for some reason by Clara's words.

"Bunny is as old as I am," Clara replied matter-of-factly. "We're cousins."

"Who gave you Bunny?"

Clara shrugged, wandering over to sit on Mary's lap without any cause. She brushed her small fingers over the rabbit's long ears, leaning her head against Mary's shoulder. Mary felt her breath catch in her throat, all her fears about Clara washing away with one small gesture. She rumpled Clara's dark hair, watching as she began to play with the dog and rabbit toys.

Matthew emerged from the bedroom, slipping his mobile back into his pocket as he approached them.

"What did they want?" Mary asked, noticing a pleased smile on Matthew's face. He sat himself on the couch behind her, his leg pressing against her shoulder.

"Milt just had a question about one of our client files. Apparently he couldn't read my writing," Matthew replied, gently massaging Mary's neck with his fingers.

"Tell him to join the club," she retorted, her eyes on Clara as she handed a toy to Matthew.

"I see you girls are getting on well without me," Matthew said, taking the stuffed dog. "It's almost is if you don't even need me."

"Boys," Clara said, with an eye roll that could have rivaled one of her aunt's.

"Yes, Clara, you're quite right," Mary replied, shooting Matthew a playful look. "Boys."

He laughed, offering some wounded dog noises in retaliation. "What do you want to do today, Miss Clara?" Matthew asked, pretending the dog was licking the little girl's face.

"Auntie said we could watch my movie," Clara said, wrinkling her nose in a way that reminded Mary so much of Sybil as a child.

"Well, if Auntie said that, then who am I to argue?" Matthew asked, looking through the selection on the table. "Which one?"

Clara sprung to her feet, pushing Matthew's hands away in order to grab the movie she wanted to watch. "This!" she insisted, shoving it into Matthew's hand. "Can we have a snack while we watch?"

"Naturally," Matthew said, getting to his feet in order to set up the film. "Why don't you and Auntie Mary pick it out?"

Clara gave Mary's hand a gentle tug, encouraging her to get to her feet. Mary smiled, following Clara into the kitchen. The little girl looked around timidly, unsure of where to find the food.

"How about I set a few things out and you pick?" Mary suggested.

Clara nodded, reaching up her hands to Mary, indicating she wanted to be picked up. Mary laughed, pulling the child into her arms and resting her on her hip.

"Sit here and I'll show you what we have," Mary said, settling Clara on the counter. "Be careful."

Clara smiled as Mary reached into the cabinet, pulling out some of the kid-friendly food they'd picked up the day before. She pulled out some fruit snacks, a box of biscuits, popcorn, and a few movie theater-style boxes of sweets.

"Can we have some of everything?" Clara asked, causing Mary to laugh again.

"Sure, but you'll have to give me a hand," Mary warned with a smile. "Would you like some juice?"

Clara nodded again and Mary helped her off the counter, handing a few of the lighter packages to her.

"Takes these in to Uncle Matthew and I'll be right there," Mary instructed. Clara toddled away, arms laden with the candy and fruit snacks, leaving Mary to fetch a juice box from the refrigerator before following after her with the rest of the goodies.

"Heavens, are we expecting more company?" Matthew asked as the girls laid the snacks out on the table. He settled onto the sofa, remote in hand as he waited for them to get situated.

"No, it's for us," Clara said frankly as Mary unloaded the snacks in her arms. The little girl crawled onto the sofa beside Matthew. "Sit by me, Auntie!" she entreated.

"Alright," Mary said with a grin, sitting on the cushion beside the girl.

As soon as Mary was seated, Clara climbed into her lap, curling into a small ball as she rested against Mary's shoulder once more. Surprised, Mary glanced at Matthew who was grinning as though he was about to bust. Mary couldn't help but smile back, pressing a kiss into Clara's hair as the movie began.

* * *

By the time the credits rolled, Clara had fallen asleep despite her obvious enjoyment of the film. She even knew most of the words to the songs, although she didn't always pronounce them properly or made up a few of her own if she couldn't make the real words out. Matthew couldn't help his gaze from wandering to Mary throughout the evening. Watching her interact with their niece was entertainment in itself, giving him hope that she had warmed to the idea of having children.

"I see you looking at me like that," Mary murmured, her hands gently stroking Clara's back.

"Like what?" Matthew asked, feigning innocence as he shifted closer to them, careful not to wake Clara. He rested his arm across the back of the sofa, playing with a lock of Mary's hair.

"Like you're _so_ smart," she retorted, settling against his side.

Matthew chuckled, brushing his nose against her cheek. "No, no, I'm a fool," he whispered, his lips tickling her neck.

It was Mary's turn to laugh, although it was soft and low as to not startle Clara. "That is true," she replied, her voice catching slightly as she spoke.

Matthew pulled back, his eyes earnest as he waited for her to look at him. Mary turned her head, her lips pressed together as she met his eyes.

"Do you...do you think I could really do it?" she began, displaying the vulnerability she rarely allowed even Matthew to see. "Be a mother?"

He smiled tenderly, smoothing her hair with his finger tips. "Of course I do," Matthew insisted.

"You once called me aloof," Mary teased, remembering that moment so many years ago, before all the heartache and loneliness, before Matthew finally came back to her and they were able to heal together.

"Are you going to hold that over my head for the next sixty years?" he retorted with a roll of his eyes that brought a smile to her lips. "And I was wrong, of course, as I often am. But I'm not wrong about this. _You are going to be a wonderful mother._"

"_How do you know_?" Mary asked, her eyes momentarily leaving his as Clara shifted in her sleep. She rubbed the girl's back, returning to Matthew's impassioned gaze once more.

"_Because_," he began, leaning forward. He brushed his lips against hers before continuing. "_Because you're such a wonderful woman_."

Mary felt her cheeks grow warm from his compliment, her eyes filling with moisture. "_I hope I'm allowed to be your Mary Crawley for all eternity, and not Edith's version or anyone else's for that matter_," she replied tenderly, resting her forehead against his.

"_You'll be my Mary, always, because mine is the true Mary_," Matthew whispered. He brushed her cheek with his thumb, wiping away a tear as it fell through her eyelashes. "Does this mean you want to try?" he asked. "Do you want to have a baby?"

Mary smiled. "_I think that perhaps I do_," she said excitedly, causing Matthew's heart to leap in his chest.

"_Do you ever wonder how happy you've made me_? Three years ago, I never thought I'd be sitting with you, my _wife_, discussing babies," he said, his voice full of emotion.

"Oh, Matthew," Mary said, running her fingers through his hair. "I never wanted to spend the rest of my life with anyone but you. _My _Matthew. I hope our child has your beautiful eyes and your kind heart."

Matthew returned her smile, kissing her once more. "_I fall more in love with you every day that passes_," he murmured, his lips pressing against her forehead.

"_I'll remind you of that next time I scratch the car_," she teased, turning to look at Clara again.

He chuckled. "_Do_," he insisted. "_I give you full permission_."

"As though I need it," she retorted, causing him to laugh louder. "Quiet, you'll wake Clara."

Matthew covered his mouth, his eyes apologetic as he tried to stop laughing.

"Well, I can't wait for Tom and Sybil to come back," Matthew said once he'd stopped cackling.

"Why is that?" she asked, marveling at how comfortable Clara seemed to be in her arms. Perhaps Matthew was right. Maybe she could be a mother after all.

"So we can get started on making our little prince," he informed her, his breath warm on her skin as he kissed her neck.

"You're very shocking!" she reprimanded, swatting his hand away.

"Don't tell me you weren't thinking it," Matthew said, tracing his index finger down Mary's neck and across her collar bone.

"I'm afraid we'll have to wait a few weeks for that," she said. "But that doesn't mean we can't practice."

Matthew grinned, understanding her meaning.

"Practice does make perfect," he murmured slowly. "And we're so good at it already."

Mary pulled away from Matthew's lips, shaking her head in order clear out the fogginess that had settled in.

"You'll have to wait," she said authoritatively.

"See, you sound like a mother already," he teased, kissing her cheek quickly. He got to his feet, heading for the kitchen.

Mary watched him go, a contented sigh escaping her lips.

* * *

Clara eventually woke up, a little disoriented and cranky, but when she saw her aunt's face, she was calm once more. Mary was amazed by this little girl who'd taken to her so suddenly. The Christmas before at Downton had hardly allowed them a chance to interact, as Clara hid behind one of her parents most of the time or preferred the company of her grandmother, who spoiled her terribly. Mary couldn't have bribed Clara into her lap if she'd tried, although she knew that was partly due to her own coldness toward the girl. She'd always been wary of children, but she sensed most of that fear was dissipating and it was mainly due to Clara's unintentional sweetness.

"Auntie, do you have any children?" Clara asked as she played with her animals on the floor. It was nearing ten and Mary was sad that Sybil and Tom would soon return for their little girl.

Mary laughed. "I'm afraid I don't."

"You know, Ma's going to have a baby. You can probably have him," Clara said seriously.

"I don't think she'd let me," Mary said, unsure of how to explain this to her. "That's very considerate of you though."

She covered her mouth to keep from laughing at Clara again. Matthew returned to the living room, a file in his hand.

"Uncle, why don't you have any babies?" Clara asked, causing Matthew to look up from his work. "I told Auntie you could have Ma's."

A look of surprise crossed Matthew's face, as he was forced to take a seat on the sofa in order to process Clara's words. He looked at Mary and she could tell he was trying not to laugh at the little girl.

"Well, I'm not sure how much your mother would like that idea," Matthew began. "And I'm sure your Pa would be quite against it as well."

Clara sighed, continuing to play with her toys. "I just like the three of us," she murmured. "Do you think Pa will still let me have all the whipped cream from the top of the sundae when the new baby comes?"

Mary smiled, dropping Matthew's gaze in order to scoot closer to Clara. "Of course he will," she insisted. Clara settled against Mary's knee, taking her aunt's hand.

"Will Ma still tuck me in at night?" Clara wondered, playing with Mary's fingers.

"Yes, darling, she will," Mary replied.

Clara snuggled into her arms and Mary kissed her forehead. She glanced up at Matthew, who looked as though he would cry at any moment.

"Clara?" Mary asked, causing the little girl to sit up. "Did you know that Uncle Matthew is very ticklish?"

"No," Clara murmured, an impish look on her face.

"Hey, wait," Matthew protested as Clara got to her feet.

She scrambled onto the couch and began tickling Matthew. Mary followed after her, laughing herself as Matthew struggled under the little girl's hands. She knew he was trying to be gentle, despite the fact that his eyes were shooting daggers at his wife.

"Hey...Mary's ticklish, too!" Matthew practically shouted in-between laughs. Clara pulled away, a look of understanding passing between Matthew and Clara.

"No!" Mary said as the pair converged on her, tickling her until her sides hurt from laughing so hard and tears poured from her eyes.

As their tickle fight continued, there was a knock on the door.

"Da!" Clara said happily, leaving Mary in peace in order to run to the door.

"Clara wait," Matthew said, following her to the door. Mary turned to watch them from over the back of the sofa, resting her chin on her hand. Matthew lifted the little girl off her feet and onto his shoulder before unlocking the door and opening it.

"Pizza guy," Tom said, a surprised look on his and Sybil's faces when they saw Clara perched on Matthew's shoulder like a parrot.

"You're not the pizza guy, you're Da!" Clara insisted, practically jumping from Matthew's shoulder into her father's arms.

"Oh, am I? My mistake," Tom said, giving Clara a kiss as she put her arms around his neck.

"Did you behave for your aunt and uncle?" Sybil questioned, giving her daughter a peck on the cheek.

"Yes, Ma," Clara said solemnly. Sybil looked at Mary for confirmation.

"She was an absolute angel," Mary insisted, getting to her feet. She walked to the door, stopping at Matthew's side.

"Well, I'm glad the three of you got along so well," Sybil said. Clara smiled wide.

"I love Auntie Mary!" she said happily. Mary felt tears pool in her eyes, forcing her to look away. Matthew had looked at her after Clara spoke, smiling as he wrapped his arm around her waist.

"And what about me?" he asked ruefully as Mary blinked back her tears.

"Auntie Mary is prettier," Clara said honestly, causing Matthew to laugh.

"That she is," Matthew replied.

"Well, we should get going," Sybil said, offering Mary a smile as she looked up.

"Can we come back soon?" Clara asked, tugging rather violently on Tom's collar.

"Whenever you like," Mary said, regaining her composure. Tom laughed.

"As long as you don't strangle me, Clara," he said, setting her on her feet. "Clean up your toys, please."

Clara sighed, but Tom gave her a gentle push and she dutifully cleaned up the living room, with a bit of help from the adults to speed up the process. Soon all the little girl's belongings were back in the bag, except for the rabbit, which was tucked under Clara's little arm.

"Drive safe," Mary said, kissing Sybil's cheek as Tom picked Clara up once more, bag slung over his shoulder.

"See you soon, Auntie!" Clara said, waving her hand happily. Mary planted a kiss on the little girl's cheek, giving her one last smile before Tom and Sybil carried her off.

"My, Clara is certainly taken with you," Matthew said, encircling Mary in his arms once the door was shut.

"Yes, well, she has excellent taste," Mary retorted, touching her hand to her husband's cheek.

"She certainly does," he replied bringing his lips to hers once more.

Mary couldn't keep herself from smiling as Matthew kissed her, a laugh escaping her lips as his tongue moved across them.

"What?" he asked, furrowing his brow as he looked at her face. "Why are you laughing?"

She laughed again, amused by his offense. "Darling, I'm sorry," she said, intertwining her fingers together at the nape of his neck. "I'm just...just very happy."

Matthew chortled, the corners of his mouth turning up, his eyes dancing with their own laughter.

"I'm glad," he said, his face relaxing.

"Are we ready to be parents?" Mary asked, brushing her thumb against his ear.

"Well, it'll be a while, but tonight went really well, I think. Clara only cried twice and both times _you_ made it better by simply being you," he said.

Mary smiled. "You always know just what to say, don't you?" she questioned, resting her hand on Matthew's chest. She played with the buttons on his shirt, looking expectantly into his eyes.

"Kiss me," she murmured softly.

Matthew leaned down, gently touching his lips to hers before Mary pulled him closer, biting his lower lip to keep him from pulling away. His hands were on her back, holding her body against his. She jumped and wrapped her legs around his waist, allowing Matthew to carry her into their bedroom without hesitation.

* * *

_What do you think? To be continued._


	2. Chapter 2

_To everyone who asked after the previous chapter: heck yes, I am continuing this story! I'm so excited to be back in the realm of M/M happiness._

_First, THANK YOU SO SO MUCH for your responses to the final two chapters of "A Good Argument." I was very sorry to leave you with such horrible angst, but we M/M shippers sort of thrive on the angst, don't we?_

_Downton quotes will be italicized (as usual) and Downton belongs to Julian Fellowes, but Clara and Branson baby 2 are mine._

_And now, for your reading pleasure..._

* * *

**Chapter Two**

Mary blinked at her computer screen, ignoring the shooting pains of her lower abdomen that signaled the beginning of her monthly cycle. It had been over five months since she and Matthew had babysat for Clara. Five months since she'd gone off the pill. Five months since they'd been trying to get pregnant.

Five months with nothing to show for it.

They'd "practiced" the first two weeks, allowing Mary to further adjust to the idea of having a little one of their own. And that time had only served to increase her longing for a baby. By the time her birth control had run out, she'd started to look up baby names and had even begun searching for a two-bedroom apartment so they could have a nursery. Neither of these things had she shared with Matthew, in the hopes that her silence on the matter would speed their progress along. Although she was not usually superstitious, Mary was anxious that something would happen if she planned too early, that something would jinx it.

And now it seemed like she had.

Grateful she worked from home now, Mary wandered into the bathroom, taking a few painkillers to help with the cramping. The late afternoon was cheerful and bright, so clear of the clouds that had gathered that morning, but Mary felt nothing but sadness. It had been eating away at her from the moment she woke that morning when she'd noticed the emptiness of Matthew's side of the bed. He had told her he would be gone before she awoke, promising to kiss her goodbye before heading in to the firm to work on a heavy caseload that was so unusual for the end of September. But still it hit her with an overwhelming loneliness.

Mary exited the bathroom and laid herself out on their bed. She buried her face in the pillow in order to hide the tears that no one would see. She knew her current mood was largely due to her unsteady hormones, yet it only made her more depressed, as it was something she felt hopeless to control. Her heart felt as though it was being squeezed tightly, causing her to choke out sobs of grief that were so unwarranted they made her feel idiotic.

Eventually, she dropped into a restless sleep only to be plagued with a dream of a small bundle wailing just out of her reach. No matter how fast she ran to the child, she couldn't draw near enough comfort it.

"Mary?"

Matthew's call from the front room pulled her from the dream, her heart racing as the contents of it rushed upon her, tears returning to her eyes.

"Mary?" Matthew repeated, dropping his voice as he entered their bedroom. "Are you asleep?"

Mary wondered if she could pretend to be sleeping still, but her shoulders shook as a pitiful whimper unintentionally escaped her lips. She covered her mouth, a movement Matthew couldn't help but notice as he sat on the bed behind her. He shifted closer, his thigh pressing against her back as he leaned over to look at her.

"Mary?" he questioned once more, this time with genuine concern in his voice as she turned her head to look at him. Matthew's brow furrowed as her tearful eyes met his gaze. "Darling, whatever is the matter?"

She sniffed, wiping at her eyes as Matthew touched a gentle finger to her cheek.

"It's nothing," she lied, her voice shaking with betrayal.

"Surely not," he said gently. "Or you wouldn't be crying, my love."

At this endearment, Mary shut her eyes tightly, tears brimming over her lashes.

"I started my cycle today," she sobbed, rolling away from him in order to hide her face once more.

Matthew didn't respond right away, apparently at a loss to understand why this upset her more than usual. He exhaled with relief, pressing his lips against her cheek before speaking, his hand rubbing her shoulder.

"That's all this is about?" he asked with a smile as Mary sat up on the bed. But his expression sobered as she glared back at him.

"_All_ this is about?" she repeated, pulling away from him. "God, Matthew."

She climbed out of the bed as Matthew looked at her in bewilderment, crossing to the bathroom and slamming the door behind her, securing the lock in one swift movement. She gripped the sides of the sink to stop her hands from trembling, meeting her angry and wet gaze in the mirror as she listened to Matthew shuffle to the door.

"Mary," he said, his voice soft as he spoke through the door. He tried to turn the handle, but groaned when it wouldn't budge. "Mary, I'm sorry. I...I don't know what I've done, but, please, just tell me what's wrong."

"You haven't done anything," Mary said after a long silence, her voice shaking. Even with the door shut, she knew he could hear the tremors in her voice.

After a taking a few controlled breaths, she splashed some cool water on her face, taking her time drying the water off before opening the bathroom door. Matthew looked earnestly at her, his brows knit together as she wiped her nose, trying to hide the tears hadn't all been washed away by the water.

"Is this just because you're...on your..._you know_?" he questioned carefully.

Mary rolled her eyes, pushing past him to stalk out of the room. Even though she knew none of this was Matthew's fault, she couldn't stop anger from mixing with her sadness and rampaging hormones.

"Don't be such a child," she muttered, his footsteps following behind as she headed into the kitchen. She wasn't entirely sure if she was speaking to Matthew or herself.

She felt Matthew's eyes watching her in silence as she filled the kettle with water and placed it on the stove top before igniting the range. She opened the cupboard and pulled out a tea bag, her hands still trembling as she set it inside a teacup. She hoped he couldn't see her shaking.

"I know I'm an idiot, but can you please explain to me what I've done?" he asked, breaking through the tense silence.

Mary frowned, shooting him an annoyed look. "Everything's always about you, isn't it?" she asked, her words biting and harsher than she intended.

"You're joking, right?" Matthew asked, crossing his arms over his chest. "God, Mary, what the hell is wrong with you today?"

She clenched her teeth, glaring at him as she turned, her anger causing her to ball her hands into fists. If only to stop their shaking.

"What the _hell_ is wrong with me? What's wrong is that I went off the pill almost five months ago. We've been trying to get pregnant for five bloody months and every damn time I wake up to cramps and mood swings, it makes me think that maybe we're not supposed to have children. Or maybe there's something wrong with me and I can't have children. And I know how much you want them. And how much I do, too," she said, her voice dropping to a whisper on the final sentence of her rant. She took a few ragged breaths, tears returning as she looked away from her husband. The kettle began to whistle and she turned to it, removing it from the range and pouring the hot water into the empty cup.

"Oh, God, Mary," Matthew breathed, his voice drawing near as he moved across the kitchen. He placed a hand on her back as she put the kettle aside, his cautious touch gently removing all of Mary's anger, replacing it with only the sadness she felt. "How long have you been suffering like this?"

"I don't know," she whispered, releasing a ragged breath. "I think it was after the...the second month of trying. When nothing happened, I started to think-" She broke off her sentence, unable to complete it. She turned to him, pressing her face to his neck as Matthew's arms encircled her.

"Darling, it's only been five times that we've missed. Surely you can't think something's wrong already," he murmured, his lips against her hair. "It can take years for some couples to have children."

She pulled back, her eyes sad as she frowned at him. "Years of unprotected sex?" she questioned.

Such a direct question caused Matthew's ears to go red, but he offered her a warm smile nonetheless.

"I'm sure," he said rubbing her back. "It's not exactly a given every time. If you think we should see a doctor, of course I'll agree with you, but don't be so quick to despair. Five months isn't that long."

"It feels like it," Mary replied, sighing. She leaned against him, resting her forehead against his shoulder. "Sybil's due in a matter of weeks and already has one child. I wouldn't be surprised if Edith got pregnant before I did."

"It's not a contest, my love. It'll happen when it happens and when it does I'll be the happiest husband alive. Happier than Tom or Anthony or anyone else," Matthew said gently.

"I thought it wasn't a contest," she interjected.

He chuckled, his smile filling her with warmth. "But don't fret over something you can't control," Matthew finished.

"I'm sorry. I know I'm being silly, but I just feel-"

"Darling, don't apologize," Matthew insisted, his arms tightening around her, their warmth easing more of her tension. "I only wish you would have told me earlier. It would save a lot of arse-like behavior on my part. I'm the one who needs _your_ forgiveness."

Mary chortled, sniffing again as she pulled away. "Because I'm so very uncommunicative? Why ever would that be your fault?" she asked, brushing her fingers against the stubble beginning to appear on his jaw.

"You'd think a better husband would learn how to control his temper," he teased, his eyes penitent.

"You're exactly the husband I want," Mary told him, moving her face closer to his. "Arse-like behavior and all."

Matthew smiled playfully, bringing further relief to Mary's anxious heart. He lifted her chin with his fingertips, hesitating for a moment before softly touching his lips to hers. Mary leaned into his kiss, her lips parting as his tongue brushed against them. His hands pulled her waist to his hips, a sharp pain in her abdomen causing Mary to pull away.

"Dammit," she sighed, kissing him quickly before turning to pick up her tea. "I'm afraid my body doesn't approve of such closeness today."

"I'm sorry, darling," Matthew said, his face apologetic as she looked over at him. "What can I do to make it better?"

"We're out of ice cream," Mary said, her voice grave. She blew on the tea and Matthew grinned, touching her face.

"I'll change and then pick some up, shall I? Something with chocolate?"

"Only if you don't want to sleep on the sofa tonight," she quipped before taking a drink of her tea.

"Not a chance," he replied, kissing her cheek before heading for their bedroom.

* * *

Matthew lay in the darkness, watching Mary's side rise and fall as she slept, a frown on his face as he concentrated on her form. He still couldn't believe she'd been so silent about her fears, so quick to doubt even though hardly any time had passed. And he was surprised by his own insensitivity and lack of recognition of her pain. Looking back on the past few weeks, he wondered how he couldn't have seen it? How she'd begun to smile less, the fear and trepidation creeping into her gaze. He hadn't felt like this much of an idiot in such a long time, not since he hadn't realized his own feelings for the woman now laying at his side.

"You're such a fool," he muttered aloud, rolling onto his back.

"What?"

Mary's question cut through the silence. She rolled over, her eyes questioning in the moonlight.

"Darling, I'm sorry. I thought you were asleep," he murmured, touching his fingertips to her cheek.

"So did I," was her droll reply as she settled her head onto his chest after kissing his neck. "Why are you a fool?" she asked after a stint of silence.

"I should have noticed how much our unluckiness was affecting you," Matthew said, his hand gliding down her arm as his mind moved elsewhere. "In hindsight, I see now that you weren't holding it in as well as you intended. You were acting differently and I was too selfish to notice it."

"I was not doing anything different," Mary protested, lifting her head to meet his gaze.

"You smiled less," Matthew stated, tapping the tip of her nose with his finger. "I didn't notice it because...well...I'm a fool."

"Please, stop saying such things about my husband," she entreated. "Or you'll make me very cross."

"I have no wish to do that," he replied gently. She relaxed against his chest once more and Matthew pressed his lips to her hair.

"Do you really think we'll get pregnant? What if something-" Mary began, worry creeping into her voice.

"Darling, just give it more time. I've looked it up and we only need to worry about it if a year passes," Matthew told her. "Otherwise, we just keep trying."

"What else have you been looking up?" she asked, a chuckle escaping her lips. He tightened his arms around her, hoping to erase more of her worry.

"Oh, just the standard pregnancy do's and don'ts. Although I think we may need to make love more often to increase our chances of conceiving. The site said to do it every day," he explained, half-joking.

"What, every-other-day isn't good enough for you?" she teased. "Just let me get through this week and then we'll talk."

He laughed, burying his lips in her hair once more. "I also looked at a few baby name websites. What do you think of the name 'Matthew'?"

"I think that's _your _name, you silly man," she replied. "Don't be so vain."

"Oh, did _you_ have any better ideas?"

"I like 'Sophia'," Mary whispered, the emotion in her voice cutting at Matthew's heart.

"Sophia is a lovely name, my darling. But what if it's a boy?" he prompted gently, brushing his palm over her hair.

"Well, we could name him after your father," she said.

"Hmm, Reginald Crawley? Mother would be pleased, but it's quite an old name, isn't it? I'm not sure how fitting it would be for a little boy."

"We should probably wait anyway," Mary said, releasing a small sigh. "What if Sybil and Tom steal our baby names?"

"I doubt very much that 'Reginald' would be in danger," Matthew teased gently.

"True," she murmured. "She's due any day now. And we have to watch Clara whenever it does happen."

"I'm sure Clara's missed you terribly," Matthew replied.

"Oh, I doubt it. I'm sure I'm not nearly as fun as Tom is," Mary said.

"You're just different kinds of fun," he explained, noting the remaining trepidation in her voice. How could he ease her mind?

"Yes, and I'm the less-fun kind."

"Don't say such things about my wife," he entreated, causing Mary to scoff before yawning wide.

"If you insist," she replied sleepily, nuzzling her face against his skin.

"_I didn't think it was possible to love as much as I love you_," Matthew whispered.

"Remind me in the morning," she murmured without hearing his words, her fingers clasping his as she drifted off again.

Matthew smiled to himself, listening to his wife's breathing as she fell asleep on his chest, her chest rising and falling with a rhythm that made him feel comfortable. After a few minutes he too fell asleep, his thoughts deliciously happy as he tightened his grip on Mary's hand.

* * *

Mary woke up disoriented as her mobile went off on the bedside table. Her limbs were tangled in Matthew's, who had somehow rolled over and now pinned down her left side with his body. The room was still dark, indicating she hadn't been asleep very long. She attempted to reach for her mobile, but with Matthew on top of her she could barely move. His head was resting firmly against the pillow, his mouth hanging open in its usual state, a soft snore mingling with the ringtone.

"Matthew," she said in a clear voice as she pushed his shoulder. His eyes fluttered open, eliciting a moan from his lips as he shifted off her.

"What time is it?" he complained as Mary was finally able to grab her mobile. Tom's caller I.D. lit up the screen, making her feel as though she were looking into the sun.

"Hello?" she questioned nervously into the phone, fearing something had happened to Sybil or her parents.

"Mary, I'm taking Sybil to hospital now," Tom's voice said frantically. "Her water broke. Mrs. Waltz from down the hall is going to stay with Clara until you get here."

"Of course, I'll be there as quick as I can," Mary replied, shoving Matthew's shoulder again as he started to drift off. She dropped the phone, turning to her husband who squinted as she turned on the bedside lamp. "Matthew, Sybil's in labor!"

"I'm glad I'm not her," he muttered into his pillow. "What time is it?"

"Almost four. I have to go watch Clara," Mary reminded him, climbing out of bed. She walked over to the closet, searching for something to throw on. "Will you be alright while I'm gone? It could be days."

Matthew groaned, forcing himself out of bed. "I'll take you over," he said, rubbing his hand through his hair after he pulled on a shirt and a pair of jeans. "And then drop by after I get off work. Does that suit you?"

She laughed at him as she dressed, feeling excited for her sister as well as anxiety about being alone with Clara for such a long time. "We should probably stop by the hospital at some point. I suppose Mama and Papa will come down tomorrow and Mama will probably want to keep an eye on her granddaughter as well."

"Well, just send up a flare to let me know where you are. Or activate your homing device."

"You're so troublesome," Mary teased, kissing Matthew's cheek before pulling a jumper over her head.

The drive to Sybil and Tom's was fairly quiet, Mary's anxiety resurfacing as she realized Matthew would leave her in a few short minutes. She balled her hands into fists as the time drew nearer, causing Matthew to reach over to take her hand.

"Don't worry, darling," Matthew told her as they pulled up to the curb in front of the Bransons' building. "Clara adores you."

Mary nodded, taking a deep breath and exhaling as Matthew turned off the car. They headed inside, Matthew tucking Mary's bag under one arm as he drew her close with his other. He yawned as they stood silently in the lift, both watching the floor numbers light up.

Upon reaching the correct flat, Mary knocked on the door, still resting beneath Matthew's arm as they waited for it to be opened. An elderly lady appeared on the other side, a dressing gown tied around her narrow waist.

"I'm Mary Crawley, Sybil's sister," Mary told the older woman who nodded.

"Ah, yes, of course," Mrs. Waltz replied, admitting the couple. "Little Clara hasn't stirred and Mr. Branson said he'd call you in the morning to let you know how dear Sybil is doing. If you need anything, I'm in 4F."

Mary thanked her and she left, padding down the corridor in her slippered feet.

"Do you have to go?" Mary asked Matthew as he set her bag by the sofa.

"Darling, I have to work," he reminded her. "Just check on Clara and then go to sleep. She'll be awake before you know it."

"Fine," she sighed, leaning over to kiss her husband's cheek. "Drive safe."

"Text me if you need me," Matthew replied, wrapping his arms around Mary as she pulled away. He drew her close, inhaling as he kissed her temple.

"Are you sniffing me?" she asked, leaning back, eyebrow arched high as she looked at him.

"I'm going to miss that wit," he murmured with a smile. "I love you."

"_Of course you do_," Mary said. Matthew laughed before giving her a quick kiss.

"Get some sleep," he called as he slipped out and Mary shut the door.

Mary stood by the front door for a for a few moments after locking it, the silence of the flat unnerving her now that Matthew was gone. She sighed again, heading down the hallway to Clara's bedroom door. She pushed the ajar door aside, glimpsing into the room that was dimly illuminated by a small light on the nightstand. The light projected hundreds of stars onto the bedroom ceiling, allowing Mary to easily view Clara's sleeping form in her toddler bed. The little girl was fast asleep, her dark curls sticking out from every angle against the pillow as her chest slowly rose and fell again beneath her blanket. The stuffed rabbit, Bunny, was tucked under Clara's little arm, her chubby fist gripping one of the animal's ears for further contact.

As she watched her niece sleep, Mary's eyes filled with moisture, but her emotions were so different from what they had been only twelve hours before. Instead of anxiety, she was filled with warmth and even confidence. She wanted to be a mother. And she knew Matthew had been right. She would no longer despair.

There was always hope.

* * *

_What did you think? xoxo_


	3. Chapter 3

_First, a huge thank you to everyone who reviewed chapter two! Seriously, your responses make me so happy, it's kind of ridiculous how much I love hearing from you guys. I don't deserve such wonderful readers, but I really appreciate all of you so stinking much._

_Also, I forgot to mention where the title for this came from, but the credit goes to a song by the band Clarensau, "All Over Again." You should listen to it (on Youtube or Spotify) because I think it really fits our beautiful ship, especially Mary. :)_

_Many thanks to the wonderful Lala-Kate, who enlightened me on all things pregnancy and labor. You are an angel and I really appreciate all your help! This chapter is for you, dear!_

_Downton belongs to Julian Fellowes and show quotes will be in italics._

_Enjoy!_

* * *

**Chapter Three**

A shadow passed across Mary's closed eyes, momentarily blocking out the sunlight streaming through the windows.

"Auntie Mary?"

Clara's tentative voice caused Mary to open her eyes immediately, her cheek resting against the sofa cushion as the pillow she had found a few hours earlier was now on the floor. It was still fairly early, although the east-facing windows of the Bransons' flat didn't offer much protection from the sun. She rubbed the sleep from her eyes as they focused on Clara.

"Where's Ma?" Clara questioned as her aunt sat up. She held Bunny to her chest tightly, her eyes fearful and wet as she looked up at Mary. Her dark hair was a mess, her chin quivering as she waited for Mary's response.

"Oh, darling, she's gone to have the baby," Mary said, reaching out to Clara who shifted forward to be drawn into her aunt's arms. "Don't you remember when I told you last week? That I'd be staying with you soon? Do you remember when Uncle Matthew and I took you to the park?"

Clara sniffed thoughtfully, as though attempting to recall it.

"Yes," she said, doubt and fear still in her voice. "So Ma and Da are alright?"

"Of course, Clara," Mary insisted, kissing the little girl's forehead. "In fact, would you like to go see them later today?"

Clara's eyes lit up momentarily, her brow creasing with worry once more. "Will the new baby be there?" she asked.

"Perhaps, but it may be a while longer. Aren't you excited to meet your little brother or sister?" Mary asked, rubbing Clara's back gently.

"A little," Clara replied, looking down at her rabbit as she settled against Mary's chest. "Do I have to share Bunny with the baby?"

"Not if you don't want to," Mary said gently. She sensed that Clara was willing to be comforted, if only Mary could do it properly.

"Will the baby cry?" Clara asked.

"Quite a lot sometimes, I'm afraid," she replied. "But babies just want to know that they're loved and taken care of. Do you think you'll be able to help your Ma and Da with that?"

The little girl looked thoughtful for a minute before looking up at Mary earnestly. "Like Ma and Da love me?"

"Yes, darling, like that," Mary said, brushing her fingers through Clara's curls.

"I can do that," Clara said, her eyes growing brighter as they remained fixed on Mary.

"Of course you can, sweetheart," Mary agreed. "Are you hungry? Do you want to help me make breakfast?"

"Can we have pancakes?" Clara asked hopefully.

"Absolutely," Mary said.

"With chocolate chips?" she questioned, her eyes growing big. Mary laughed warmly, hugging Clara quickly before setting the little girl on her feet.

"There's no reason to have pancakes without them," Mary told her. Clara giggled, following Mary into the kitchen.

After a bit of searching and some help from Clara, Mary found all the necessary ingredients for pancakes and pulled a dinning room chair up to the counter for Clara to stand on so she could help. She let Clara measure the flour and sugar, both breaking into a fit of giggles as she spilled some on the floor and the seat of the chair.

"Oops!" Clara exclaimed, looking cautiously at Mary as though waiting to be scolded. Mary smiled, sticking her finger in the flower and tapping it on the end of Clara's nose. Clara giggled, her nose wrinkling beneath the dollop of flour.

"Da says not to make messes," Clara said, wiping her hand on her face and unintentionally spreading more of the mixture on her cheek.

"It's alright. It can be our little secret," Mary told her, causing Clara's smile to widen even more. In the living room, Mary's mobile rang, prompting her to grab it while Clara gently stirred the batter.

"Hello?" she answered it, returning to the kitchen to watch Clara.

"It's Tom," he said, his voice tired.

"How's Sybil?" Mary asked. Clara turned her head at the sound of her mother's name, her eyes lighting up.

"Fine. Things are moving along slowly. She's only at four centimeters right now," he explained.

"Da? Is that Da?" Clara asked happily, dropping the wooden spoon into the mixing bowl as she reached out her flour-covered hands for Mary's phone. Mary laughed, changing the setting to speakerphone so Clara could hear Tom.

"Would it be alright if Clara and I stopped by for a bit in the afternoon?" Mary asked.

"Sure. We're at King's College," he replied, unaware that Clara was listening in.

"Da! Da!" Clara squealed, her hands still reaching out for the mobile, as though it would bring her closer to her father.

"Good morning, my babby," Tom said with animation, obviously making an effort to sound less fatigued for his daughter's sake. "Are you behaving for your Auntie?"

"Yes, Da. We're making pancakes," Clara told him happily. "Is Ma there? Can I talk to her?"

Tom paused and Mary heard the sound of groans and heavy breathing in the background, indicating Sybil was occupied by another contraction.

"How about I tell her 'hi' for you?" he asked, moving away from Sybil's noises.

"Okay! I miss you, Da!" Clara said, jumping up and down happily. Mary smiled, unable to fathom how such an adorable child could possess half the DNA of Tom Branson.

"I miss you, too, Clara-bear," Tom replied. "I've got to go, but I'll see you two later."

"Bye, Da! I love you!"

"I love you, my babby," he said, Sybil's breathing getting louder as he returned to her side.

"See you later," Mary said before ending the call. Mary turned to check Clara's stirring job of the pancake batter, which hadn't accomplished much except getting a lot of it on the counter-top. "How about we whip up these pancakes and then get cleaned up so we can go to the hospital later?"

"Yay!" Clara squealed, clapping her hands together as she grinned.

* * *

After giving the little girl a bath, they spent the rest of the morning playing dress up and having a tea party before lunchtime. A few texts from Tom confirmed that Sybil's labor hadn't moved along much from where it had been that morning and she was only up to five centimeters. Tom had put them off from visiting until after four, as Sybil needed to rest (plus Clara needed to nap) and Cora and Robert had already stopped at the hospital before going to their hotel, providing a bit more stress as Cora fawned over Sybil for nearly two hours before she allowed Robert to whisk her away with the promise that they could return to their daughter's bedside once Mary brought Clara to visit.

"Is Uncle Matthew coming to the hospital, too?" Clara asked. Mary was in the process of zipping up the little girl's waterproof jacket, her curly hair pulled into pigtails on each side of her head obstructing Mary's adjustment of the jacket's hood. She helped Clara pull on a small backpack, which was packed with activities for the hospital in case they got sent to the waiting room.

The two were waiting for Cora and Robert to pick them up for the hospital and they seemed to be running late, which Mary halfheartedly blamed on the rain that began after lunch. Although she guessed Cora was stalling in order to save her hair from the moisture. (How many times had Mary heard her mother exclaim that "It _never_ rains this much in New York," to which Robert would reply, "Yes, but is New York surrounded by an _ocean_ on all sides?")

"He said he would try to stop by when he gets off work," Mary said as Clara grabbed Bunny and held her close. "And then we'll get dinner."

"Will he want to play horsey?" she asked, tucking the rabbit's head under her chin.

"I'm sure we could convince him," Mary replied, tapping her finger against Clara's nose and causing her to giggle. Mary smiled as there was a knock on the door. She opened it quickly, revealing Robert.

"Your mother's in the car," he said automatically, a look of annoyance crossing his face as he held his umbrella to the side in an attempt to avoid drips on the rug.

"Grandpapa!" Clara squealed happily, flying toward Robert who smiled wide as he scooped Clara into his arms.

"Hello, my little one," Robert murmured as Clara buried her face in the collar of his coat. "Are you excited to see your Grandpapa?"

"Yes!" she replied with animation, pulling away as Bunny slipped from her little arms. "Grandpapa, Auntie Mary made me pancakes and we played dress up, had a tea party, and she did my hair! Do you like it?"

"It's very pretty, sweetheart," he told her, kissing her cheek. "Shall we get going?" he questioned Mary. "Is Matthew coming?"

"He's at work, but he'll stop by later," she explained, retrieving Clara's stuffed rabbit from the floor. "Shall we leave Bunny here?"

"No," Clara insisted, reaching for the toy. "I'll be careful," she promised solemnly. Mary laughed, handing the beloved rabbit over to Clara who clutched it tightly against her chest.

"Where's Isis?" Robert asked as he carried Clara out the door.

"She lives in the toy chest," Clara explained, a laugh escaping her grandfather's lips as Mary locked the Bransons' flat.

Once Clara was safely secured in the backseat of the car, occupying the toddler seat her grandparents had purchased, Mary took the empty seat beside her niece. Cora chatted with the little girl through the whole drive about her soon-to-appear sibling. Clara held her rabbit tightly, as though fearing someone would take Bunny away for the new baby.

Robert dropped the ladies off at the front of the hospital because of the rain, giving his wife a sour expression as he drove off to find a parking spot. As they walked toward the lifts, Clara looked around, clearly anxious about being in such a strange place. She looked up at Mary, tears in her eyes as she accidentally dropped her rabbit on the white tile floor. Her chin quivered as she stopped to retrieve it, prompting Mary to scoop Clara into her arms once the toy was in her hand.

"I didn't mean to drop Bunny, Auntie," Clara apologized, choking back a sob as the lift doors opened to admit them.

"Shh, it's alright, darling," Mary insisted gently, swiftly kissing the plump cheek damp with tears. "We'll put Bunny in your pack on the way home."

Pacified, Clara laid her cheek against her aunt's shoulder as the lift moved slowly upwards. During the ride, Mary met her mother's emotional gaze, as though moved at seeing her eldest daughter be so gentle with her granddaughter.

"Mama, please," Mary entreated, hoping to squelch more tears.

"I didn't say anything," Cora said, her voice unsteady as she blinked to stop the tears. Mary tilted her head to the side, as though warning her mother against any further displays of emotion regarding Mary's behavior.

They reached the correct floor and followed Cora to Sybil's room. Tom was seated at the bedside as Sybil breathed through another contraction, squeezing her husband's hand tightly as he yawned and grimaced at the same time.

"Da!" Clara squealed happily, wriggling in Mary's arms. Mary set Clara on her feet before the little girl jumped out of them, allowing her to rush at Tom despite the fact that Sybil was still gripping his hand.

"Oh, Clara-bear," Tom groaned as he pulled her into his lap. Sybil had finally released his hand, a look of relief passing over both of their faces as they looked at their daughter. "Hello, my babby."

Clara buried her nose in her father's neck as Cora approached Sybil's bed. "How are you feeling, dear?" she asked cautiously.

"Fine, Mama," Sybil said, wiping her damp brow. "Mary, could you hand me those ice chips?"

Surprised at being addressed so suddenly, Mary retrieved the cup in question for her sister, setting it on the bedside table. Sybil popped a few in her mouth, exhaling slowly in relief.

"Have you been behaving?" Sybil addressed Clara, who finally looked up from Tom's neck. The little girl slowly took in her surroundings, her hands clutching Tom's shirt for something familiar. Sensing his daughter's trepidation, Tom rubbed her back and kissed her forehead firmly.

"Yes, Ma," Clara said in a small voice, her eyes nervous as she looked at her mother. "Are you okay?"

Sybil smiled, her eyes pained as she reached for Mary's hand in order to apply pressure to something else as a contraction came on.

"Yes, my darling," Sybil panted as Mary took a seat on the edge of the mattress, allowing her sister to squeeze her fingers until they turned blue. "We're just waiting for the baby."

Clara looked indignant at this, as her mother was no longer able to talk through her contraction. "Is it hurting you?" she asked, leaning forward with a cross expression on her face. Mary forced herself not to laugh at Clara's anger, as though she dared any creature hurt her mother. "Da?" the pitch of Clara's voice rose as she gazed at her father who looked rather helplessly back at the tears pooling in the little girl's eyes.

"I'm alright," Sybil managed, finally releasing Mary's aching fingers. She offered Clara a more believable smile and Tom distracted her with the stuffed rabbit.

"Did you have the epidural?" Cora questioned, seating herself in one of the empty chairs.

"Not yet," Sybil replied as Mary gave her more ice chips. "Where's Papa?"

"Parking the car. He should be in at any moment," Cora said, clearly worried by Sybil's discomfort. "Do you want me to find the nurse?"

"I'm fine, Mama," Sybil insisted, growing rather cross as she frowned at their mother.

"Are you still at five centimeters?" Mary asked, drawing her attention away from Cora.

"As of twenty minutes ago," Sybil replied, reaching for Mary's hand again.

She squeezed her eldest sister's hand so hard, Mary almost cried out herself. Sybil's heavy panting drew Clara's attention back to her mother, prompting the little girl to scramble from her father's lap onto her mother's hospital bed.

"Ma?" Clara asked, her eyes welling with tears once more.

"Maybe this wasn't such a great idea," Mary ventured as Tom reached his hands out for Clara. Sybil's contraction lessened and Robert entered at the same time, Matthew on his heels.

"Look who I found," Robert announced, approaching Sybil's bed to kiss his youngest daughter. "How's it coming?"

"Papa, I'm in labor," Sybil replied with sarcasm, her hands drawing her daughter to her side. "Shh, Clara, it's alright."

"So, good?" Robert asked, causing all the women in the room to roll their eyes.

"You were completely useless for all three of my labors, if I recall correctly. You were green the entire time. He even passed out when they took _my_ blood at one of my prenatal appointments," Cora admonished with a laugh as Robert settled himself on the arm of her chair.

"You know I hate needles," was Robert's reply.

"It was in my arm!" Clara retorted, causing Sybil to laugh in spite of her discomfort.

Mary stood as Matthew approached them, his hair wet from the rain that still fell outside. She smiled, silently wondering how she could miss him so much in only a twelve-hour time period.

"Darling, I didn't know you'd be here so soon," Mary said, pushing a damp flop of hair from his eyes with her fingertips.

"I'm as shocked as you are. We got through our case this afternoon, so they sent me away early," Matthew explained, loosening his tie as he kissed Mary's cheek. "Is Edith coming?"

"She and Anthony are in-" Sybil began, groaning as another contraction began and caused Clara to scurry back to Tom's arms. Mary sat again, offering Sybil her hand.

"In Helsinki. Anthony's on business there," Tom finished, drawing Clara close to his chest. "Clara-bear, would you like us to go get some hot chocolate with Uncle Matthew?" he asked, clearly wanting to distance Clara from her mother's pain for a while.

Clara nodded, her arms encircling Tom's neck as he got to his feet.

"Can this grandpapa come?" Robert asked, giving Cora's hand a squeeze before he stood.

"I can stay if you like," Matthew said, although his eyes were uneasy as he looked at her.

"No, go," Mary told him, grimacing as Sybil's grip tightened. "I won't let you escape when it's me."

Instantly she knew she shouldn't have added that last sentence. A collective silence fell over the room and even Sybil seemed to have stopped grunting so much, her grip on Mary's fingers increasing for a moment as her excitement overpowered her pain.

"Are you pregnant?" Cora asked suddenly.

"Mary?" Sybil questioned as her contraction ended.

Bringing her hand to her forehead, Mary cast a look up at her husband who smiled back sympathetically but gave no more assistance.

"No, Mama," Mary replied exasperatedly. "But we are trying."

Cora gasped happily, her eyes lighting up. Sybil grabbed Mary's hand as their mother spoke, "_Oh, my dear_," she exclaimed. "I never thought you'd want children."

"Please, don't make more out of this than is necessary," Mary entreated, sighing. "Sybil, do you want me to get the nurse? More ice chips?"

"I think we'll bow out. We'll be back in a bit, my love," Tom said to Sybil as he carried Clara from the room. Robert was at his heels, but Matthew remained, looking rather torn.

"Sorry," he offered, kissing Mary's forehead before following after the other men and Clara.

"I can't believe you didn't tell me you were trying," Sybil admonished Mary once Matthew was gone. Cora moved closer, taking the seat Tom had occupied.

"We didn't tell anyone," Mary replied. "Anna doesn't know either, so don't feel left out."

"Why didn't you say something? At Papa's birthday party?" Sybil asked.

"I didn't want to jinx it," Mary said as Sybil took her hand again. But she didn't squeeze it, simply offering comfort to her sister. "And it's not like anything's happened."

"Don't worry too much about it," Cora said, reaching out to touch Mary's shoulder. "It took your father and I over a year to conceive."

"But Sybil-" Mary began, thinking of how soon her baby sister had become pregnant.

"It'll happen when it happens," Sybil replied, wrinkling her nose as another contraction began and rendered her unable to speak. Mary and Cora passed the minutes in silence, Mary too distracted by Sybil's fingers squashing her own to continue the conversation she hoped they had dropped. She hated speaking of such personal matters, even to her sister and mother. Thank God Edith wasn't present to make it more uncomfortable.

"So, are you ready for that epidural?" Mary asked as Sybil's pain lessened, her grip slackening.

"God, yes."

* * *

"Now, Miss Clara, I don't think those are pajamas," Matthew said, hoping to deter the little girl's idea that she could sleep in a dress-up outfit. He only knew it was a play dress because it came with a matching plastic tiara. Which the little girl had placed on her head.

"But Da let's me sleep in it," Clara insisted, her tiara lopsided as she looked up at her uncle.

Matthew sighed, unable to will himself to force her into another outfit. It was after nine and he knew past the little girl's bedtime. They had left the hospital hours before, Sybil's labor moving along at a steady and slow pace. After picking up pizza for dinner, Matthew and Mary had returned to the flat with Clara, with Matthew insisting he would stay there as well. Mary had protested, but with very little conviction behind her words. And he had missed her too much to back down. Now Mary was taking a shower and Matthew was trying to put Clara to bed.

"Please, just put on your jammies," Matthew requested, crouching in front of her.

"These _are_ my jammies!" she maintained with assurance.

"Clara, darling," Matthew began, reaching out to take the play clothes from her.

"No!" she said, pulling them from his hand.

"Clara," he said more firmly, a frown covering his face. "Listen to me."

"But I want to sleep in them!" she complained, her fatigue showing itself in full force as the tantrum came on.

"What's going on in here?" Mary questioned, relief flooding through Matthew at the sound of his wife's voice. He stood, sighing as he turned to face her.

"Uncle Matthew won't let me wear my dress to bed," Clara bemoaned, approaching her aunt with wails.

Mary cast Matthew an apologetic look, although he could see she was trying not to laugh as she knelt down in front of their niece. She pushed the hair from Clara's eyes, carefully taking the play dress from her hands.

"Darling, you know these aren't pajamas," Mary said softly, his wife's gentle voice tugging at Matthew's heart.

"But...but I want to wear it," Clara sniffed, her conviction crumbling as crocodile tears fell down her cheeks.

"Sweetheart, you have some lovely pajamas that will be much more comfortable than this," Mary replied, picking up the fleece footie pajamas Matthew had laid on Clara's bed. With a quick lament over her failed debate, Clara allowed Mary to dress her in the soft pajamas.

"Did you brush your teeth for Uncle Matthew?" Mary questioned as she hung up the play dress.

"Yes, Auntie," Clara said solemnly, picking up her stuffed rabbit and holding it to her chest. Matthew nodded in confirmation as Mary glanced at him.

"Would you like Uncle Matthew to read you a story?" Mary asked, obviously wanting to bring some sort of redemption to the spurned uncle.

"Will you listen too?" Clara asked as Matthew pulled back the covers on her bed.

"Of course," Mary agreed.

"In you go, Miss Clara," Matthew said, motioning to the bed.

Instead of climbing onto the mattress, Clara held her hands up to Matthew, bringing a smile to his face. He lifted her off the floor, tossing her in the air. Clara giggled and Matthew kissed her cheek before settling her under the covers.

"Sit by me, Auntie!" Clara requested as Matthew searched for a book. Mary obliged, wrapping her arm around Clara as they leaned back against the pillows. After finding a book, Matthew seated himself at the foot of the bed and opened to the first story.

"Ready?" he questioned and Clara nodded in response as Mary returned the stuffed rabbit to the little girl's arms. "_In which we are introduced to Winnie-the-Pooh and some bees, and the stories begin._" He paused and Clara looked excitedly back at him, a contented smile on Mary's face as she rubbed their niece's back.

* * *

As Matthew finished the story, Mary glanced down at Clara. Her breathing had slowed as the story had continued, her little cheek pressed against Mary's side while her mouth hung open slightly.

"The end," Matthew whispered, softly closing the book as he got to his feet. "Careful," he entreated as Mary shifted away from Clara, settling the little girl against her pillows. Matthew flicked off the overhead light while Mary turned on the star lamp.

"Auntie?" Clara asked sleepily, causing Mary to crouch at her bedside.

"Yes, darling?" Mary questioned, moved at being asked for. She smoothed Clara's hair as she waited for her to speak.

"I love you," Clara said, her voice drifting as she fell back asleep.

"I love you, too, Clara," Mary told her. "Sweet dreams."

Aware of Matthew's gaze on her, Mary bent forward and kissed Clara's forehead, the little girl's eyes closing as her head lolled to the side. They crept from the room, leaving the door ajar in case Clara called out for them.

"Don't say it," Mary said once they were in the living room. Matthew arched his eyebrow in confusion as he sat on the arm of the sofa.

"Say what?" he asked, extending his arms to her. Mary sighed, stepping forward and allowing Matthew to pull her body to his waist.

"Whatever it is you're thinking," she finished, her fingers gliding through his hair.

"Am I not allowed to speak my mind?" Matthew teased playfully as Mary leaned against him.

"Fine," she consented. "What is it?"

"You amaze me, do you know that?" he murmured, cupping her chin in his hand.

"How so?"

"The way you handled Clara during the pajamas incident. I thought for sure she would start wailing like a cat and that the neighbors would call child services on us. But you swooped in and dealt with it beautifully," he complimented her, his words turning Mary's cheeks a faint pink.

"It's only because she's used to me," she insisted.

"No, it's because you're wonderful," Matthew corrected. Mary felt her eyes burn with tears and she laughed happily, tilting her head down to kiss him.

"Thank you, darling," Mary said when she pulled away, moving to seat herself on the sofa. Matthew slid to her side, pulling her close once more.

"How are you feeling today?" he asked, nuzzling his face against her neck.

"Much better, actually," she admitted. "About everything."

Matthew smiled with understanding as he took her hands in his. "You mean our conversation last night didn't do that?"

"It did help, but I'm afraid Clara showed me something about myself that you never could," she replied honestly, brushing her thumbs across Matthew's fingers.

"And what was that, my darling?" He pulled her hands to his lips, kissing each of her knuckles as he waited for her response. Distracted momentarily, Mary shook her head to clear it.

"Children _adore_ me," she finished, extracting one of her hands from his in order to trace her finger along Matthew's jaw and down his neck. He laughed, reaching for her hand as it wandered to the buttons on his shirt.

"I can't wait to get you home," he murmured in her ear, causing Mary to inhale sharply.

"You'll hear no complaints from me," she managed in an unsteady voice. "Although I will miss Clara."

"Yes, but haven't you missed me more?" he whispered in a low voice, his breath hot against her neck as he hooked his leg around hers.

"What kind of a question is that?" she retorted, her pulse racing while his lips moved against her skin. His fingers pushed her tank top strap aside, his teeth digging into her skin. "Oh, God, Matthew. Not here. What if Clara comes out?"

Matthew sighed, kissing her lightly before pulling away. "Sybil better have that baby soon," he growled. Mary laughed, her fingers moving through his hair again.

"For both our sakes," she agreed as she looked at her husband with longing. Matthew cracked a smile and she was surprised she let him keep his clothes on.

* * *

_Thoughts?_


	4. Chapter 4

_Many thanks to all of my reviewers so far! I love to hear from you and I'm so thankful for all the support I've received in continuing this story. You're all fantastic!_

_In case you haven't realized, I'm going to try to update once a a week, probably on Wednesdays. I'll let you know of any changes that might occur regarding this "schedule."_

_Tentative "light" M-rating for the beginning of this one._

_Downton belongs to Fellowes, but Clara and baby Branson are mine. Any quotes from the show will be italicized._

_Enjoy!_

* * *

**Chapter Four**

"God, what time is it?"

Mary opened her eyes at the sound of Matthew's voice, her cheek pressed against his chest as they lay on the Bransons' pull-out sofa. Her mobile was resting on the coffee table, the ringer deafening as it reverberated off the wood, Tom's caller I.D. blinding in the dimly lit room. A hint of pink in the sky indicating it was much earlier than either of them had expected. Mary sat up and yawned, snatching the phone up if only to silence the noise.

"Tom? Tom, what is it?" Mary asked tiredly as Matthew's head collapsed back onto his pillows with a groan.

"It's over," Tom said, his relief and exhaustion palpable. "It's a boy. We haven't named him yet, but they're both doing very well. Sybil's resting."

"That's wonderful," Mary told him, her words causing Matthew to turn his head and open one eye. "When will you be coming home?"

"It won't be until tomorrow at the earliest, just to make sure that everything's fine. But we want Clara to meet her brother later if you wouldn't mind bringing her by again," Tom explained, his voice tired. In the background, Mary heard the soft wails of a newborn, her eyes filling with tears at the sound of her nephew's cries.

"Of course," Mary said, trying to keep her voice steady. She sniffed and Matthew propped himself on his elbows, clearly surprised by his wife's emotion. "Just let me know when."

She hung up the phone quickly, wiping at her eyes as Matthew continued to watch her.

"What did Tom say?" he asked quietly, reaching out for her empty hand.

"Sybil had the baby. A boy. They haven't named him yet," Mary said, the tremor in her voice causing Matthew to sit up.

"Oh, darling," Matthew breathed, drawing Mary to his chest. "But everything's fine?"

"Yes, Tom said they're healthy," Mary told him, resting her cheek against Matthew's shoulder as a few tears slipped down her cheeks and onto his t-shirt. "I'm sorry, I don't know what's wrong with me."

"Please, don't apologize," he entreated, his hand gentle smoothing down her messy hair. He lay with her for a few minutes without speaking, his hands warm and comforting as she gained control over her emotions.

"You need never apologize to me about sharing your emotions. It's quite nice to know you have them," he teased after the stint of silence.

"You're horrible," she scoffed, giving his shoulder a playful shove. He brushed his thumb against her cheek, offering her a penitent smile as she asked, "I assume you have to work today?"

"I'm going in at nine, so I can have breakfast with you girls," Matthew said, checking the time on Mary's mobile. "God, it's only six. Are we never to have a complete night's sleep until Tom and Sybil return?"

"Apparently," Mary replied, settling into her husband's arms again. "And I was having such a lovely dream, too."

"About what?" Matthew questioned, leaning back on the sofa cushions.

Mary sighed deeply, her hand trailing over Matthew's forearm as she recalled the perfect scene. "You."

With a soft chuckle, he buried his face in her neck. "Me? What about me?" he asked in a thick voice

"Oh, it involved _all sorts of things_," she murmured suggestively. At the small of her back, she felt Matthew's muscles contract, his lips pressing against the base of her ear as his arms pulled her closer.

"You have a very frustrated husband," he moaned against her skin. He wrapped his leg over top of hers and Mary rolled to face him, trapping his leg between her thighs.

"Remember what I said last night?" she whispered. Mary pressed her lips slowly along Matthew's jaw, which tensed as he clenched his teeth. "Clara might wake up."

"Now _you're_ being horrible," he said in annoyed pleasure, his fingers moving beneath her top and sliding up her torso. "Why aren't we in a room that has a locking door?"

"Matthew Crawley, learn to control yourself," she scolded, her voice a purr as she traced her thumb across his chin.

She brought her lips to his and was startled by the ferocity in his kiss, his hands still moving beneath her shirt. Mary's body tensed beneath his touch, her heart racing as she unwillingly dragged her mouth away from his.

"Matthew," she warned, anxiously listening for sounds from Clara's room as he kissed her neck, her collar bones, slowly moving lower to brush against the top of her breasts.

Ignoring her voice, Matthew flipped Mary onto her back and causing her to shriek with surprise. Mary instantly covered her mouth with her hand and Matthew pulled back, both listening for any signs of movement. Hearing nothing, Matthew bent forward to kiss her again, his mouth hungrily causing Mary's lips to part. His tongue moved between her lips as his body pressed against hers. Mary wrapped her legs around his waist, her fingers tugging on his hair as Matthew bit her lower lip. She exhaled sharply as he tensed against her, his hands attempting to shift her shorts lower on her hips.

And then she heard a door creak.

Mary shoved Matthew away with so much force she guessed his shoulder was bruised, but seconds later Clara padded into the room, rubbing her tearful eyes sleepily before looking around. Giving Mary enough time to sit up and smooth down her mussed up hair, Clara finally looked at them. Matthew had retreated to the head of the sofa again and was covering his waist with one of the pillows. Mary figured she could guess what he was hiding behind it.

"Auntie? I had a bad dream," Clara said in a shaky voice.

"Oh, darling," Mary responded, instantly pulling Clara into her arms. The little girl burrowed her face into Mary's hair, tears falling on Mary's neck. "Shh, it's alright now, sweetheart. Nothing can hurt you. I'm here."

Mary cast a look at Matthew, who's jaw was clenched as he tried to calm himself down, taking deep and ragged breaths as he attempted to stop panting. She nearly laughed at his discomfort, but Clara's needs outweighed her own amusement.

"Do you want to tell me what it was about?" Mary asked, returning attention to her niece. She ruffled Clara's hair as she pulled back to look into Mary's face.

"Ma and Da forgot about me," Clara sniffed, wiping at her eyes. "The new baby came home and they sent me away because they didn't love me anymore." She sobbed, collapsing into Mary's shoulder as she clutched at Mary's shirt.

As Clara cried, Mary rubbed the little girl's back, her brows knitting together as she cast a worried glance at Matthew. He frowned back at her, finally tossing the pillow aside and moving to sit beside them.

"Darling, they would never do that," Matthew breached, reaching out to turn Clara's face away from Mary's shirt. He gingerly wiped away a few tears with his thumb, his smile warm as he looked at Clara.

"How do you know?" she questioned, her chin still quivering.

"They love you more than anything in the world," he told her.

"But the new baby-" Clara began tearfully.

"They love you both," Matthew insisted. "You're so special to them, Clara. You could never be replaced. Do you understand me?"

Clara swallowed, nodding solemnly before launching herself into Matthew's arms. Mary smiled as Matthew kissed her forehead, Clara's arms circling tightly around his neck.

"Come on you two, time for breakfast," Mary said, getting to her feet.

"Can Uncle Matthew come to the hospital with us again?" Clara asked, patting her hand against the stubble emerging on Matthew's chin.

"I'm afraid I have to work," Matthew told her with a smile.

"Will you come over tonight?" Clara asked.

"If you like," he said.

"Oh, please!" Clara said, hugging him again. "Can we play horsey now?"

Matthew laughed. "But what about breakfast?"

"Please, please, PLEASE?" Clara begged.

Mary laughed as she walked to the kitchen, shooting Matthew an amused look as he sighed and set Clara on the floor. "Just until breakfast is ready," he told Clara, who nodded.

"How about French toast?" Mary asked as Clara climbed onto Matthew's back.

"Yay!" Clara said, grabbing onto the collar of Matthew's shirt. "Giddy up, horsey."

Matthew responded with a neigh, crawling around the living room on his hands and knees as Clara waved an imaginary lasso in the air. Mary chuckled at the scene before heading into the kitchen, the ache in her chest returning as she felt again the happiness a child of their own would bring.

* * *

After Matthew left for work, Mary and Clara spent the rest of the morning tidying up the flat, doing laundry, and coloring while they waited for Robert and Cora to pick them up to go to the hospital again.

_"Clara, you have a baby brother now," Matthew had told her over breakfast. At this, Clara had frowned, her chin quivering as a dollop of syrup slid down it. Matthew wiped it away with his napkin, making a funny noise that caused Clara to break into a smile._

_"What's his name?" she had asked skeptically._

_"They haven't decided yet," Mary said in a gentle tone._

_"Do you think they'll let me help?" Clara asked. "I'm good at names."_

_"What would you name him?" Matthew asked, humoring the little girl as she took another bite of breakfast._

_Clara looked thoughtful for a moment before swallowing. "Walter. Don't you think that's a nice name?" she questioned._

_Mary tried not to laugh as Matthew snorted. "Yes, darling, a very nice name. Perhaps you them about it when we go?" Mary told her._

Now, after lunching and watching a bit of telly (during which Clara took a short nap), they went downstairs as Cora and Robert arrived in a timely fashion. Luckily the weather was fine, but Mary made sure Clara's jumper was buttoned before taking her down to the car since it was a chilly day. With Bunny safely secured in her backpack, Mary and Clara walked hand-in-hand down to meet the grandparents.

"Hello, my darlings," Cora called through her open window as they approached the car.

"Grandmama!" Clara said with excitement, as though she hadn't seen Cora the day before.

"Are you excited to meet your brother?" Robert asked Clara while Mary strapped her into the toddler seat. At this question, Clara looked uncertainly at Mary, who offered her an encouraging smile.

"Mmhmm," Clara managed, still unsure as Mary slid into the seat beside her. She brushed her hand through Clara's hair in an attempt to comfort her further.

After parking the car at the hospital (Robert refused to drop them off since it was so sunny), Cora offered to carry Clara on the long walk across the lot, but the little girl reached her arms up for Mary. Feeling a surge of tenderness she'd only ever experienced for her niece, Mary lifted Clara off the ground. She allowed Clara to cling to her neck, her chubby arms bringing her cheek to Mary's.

"Everything will be fine," Mary murmured gently to Clara as they waited for a lift to arrive.

"Is Clara nervous about meeting the new baby?" Robert asked, frowning as he leaned forward to ruffle his granddaughter's hair.

"Only child problems," Cora replied, smirking at her husband. "Remember when we brought Edith home?"

Robert chuckled as doors to one of the lifts opened, allowing them to enter. "Oh, yes, I recall."

"I don't," Mary said with an eye-roll. "Wasn't I a year old?"

"Thirteen months," Cora corrected, causing Mary to roll her eyes again. "You were very perturbed, to say the least."

"Perturbed? She screamed her head off when you tried to take a shower," Robert replied. "You couldn't stand it when your mother held Edith and you had been walking for about two months at that point. Every time Cora tried to nurse Edith, you would try your hardest to climb into her lap and push Edith away. It was exhausting trying to distract you from her until you got over it."

"I think you're making this up," Mary retorted, arching her eyebrow at her father.

"Oh, if only," Cora said with a snort. "You were a terror."

"Thank you, Mama," Mary sighed, kissing Clara's forehead as the lift doors opened on the correct floor.

With Cora in the lead, the group moved down the corridor, finding the correct room very quickly. Knocking impatiently, Cora waited for a beat before pushing the door aside and announcing their party.

"Come in, Mama," Sybil's voice replied. Mary noted that she sounded tired, but the sound of her mother's voice prompted Clara to pull her head from Mary's, anxiously waiting for sight of her as they entered the room.

"Ma!" Clara said as Sybil came into view, causing the girl to wriggle in her aunt's arms. Tom sat at his wife's bedside, his eyes flicking up from the bundle in Sybil's arms to rest on his daughter. Mary set Clara on her feet and Tom intercepted her before she could climb onto the bed and jostle the sleeping baby.

"Shh, Clara-bear, quite," Tom entreated in a gentle voice.

The group moved in around the hospital bed, all eyes focused on the baby. Mary swallowed as the little boy came into view, her heart aching as she wished Matthew was there, if only to hold her hand and reassure her that they would one day be parents too. With surprise, the three adults realized the baby's hair was bright blond, his chubby fists clenched at his chest and protruding from the blanket wrapped around his body.

"Blond? Are you sure this is the correct one?" Robert questioned with a laugh, inciting a glare from his youngest daughter.

"Yes, Papa," Sybil said sharply, post-pregnancy hormones in full swing. "Your hair was once blond, wasn't it?" Robert frowned slightly, but lifted his hands in surrender.

"Darling, he's so beautiful. Have you settled on a name?" Cora interjected gently, moving closer to Sybil. She pulled an empty chair to the side of the bed and took a seat, reaching out to brush a finger against the baby's fist.

"Yes," Sybil said, her face relaxing as she looked at Tom and Clara, who was still rather skeptical about the baby. "Clara, your Da and I want you to meet someone. Darling, this is your baby brother, Rory."

Clara leaned forward for a better look at her sleeping brother, who yawned wide and smacked his lips at the familiar sound of Sybil's voice.

"R-Rory?" Clara asked, brow furrowed as Tom allowed her to sit on the side of the bed, his hand at her back.

"Yes, my babby," Tom murmured softly, leaning closer. "Rory Patrick Branson."

"How lovely," Mary said, resting her hands on the back of Cora's chair. "'Patrick' for Grandfather?"

Sybil nodded, her eyes misty as she admired her boy once more.

"My first grandson," Robert said proudly, leaning forward to look at him.

"Is he always going to be asleep?" Clara interjected, touching two fingers to her brother's hair.

"No, darling," Sybil replied with a smile. "He had a big night though."

"What time was he born?" Cora asked, inciting a sigh from Sybil as Tom and Rory both yawned simultaneously.

"Five thirty-seven this morning," Sybil murmured distractedly. "Eight pounds, five ounces. Twenty inches long."

"Quite a big boy, isn't he?" Tom asked fondly as Rory began to move restlessly in his mother's arms, his lips smacking together with dissatisfaction.

"Does he need to eat? Should I leave?" Robert asked quickly.

"It has been about two hours," Sybil said, glancing at the wall clock. She reached up to unfasten her hospital gown as Rory started to whine hungrily.

"Anyone need a coffee?" Robert asked quickly.

"Really, Papa, there's no need to be so squeamish," Sybil scolded as Robert averted his eyes. She brought Rory to her breast, caressing her finger against his cheek as he turned to her and began to nurse. "But you may go if you wish."

"Coffee?" Robert asked, his eyes on Mary since she was the only one not beside Sybil.

"Cream and two sugars," Mary said, giving him a smirk.

"You won't come with me?" he asked with a frown, unable to look at anyone else.

"No, dear Papa," she replied. "It'll keep you busier for longer if you have no help."

Robert sighed loudly, taking everyone else's drink order before retreating from the scene.

"What's he doing, Ma?" Clara asked as Rory ate, his fingers wriggling happily as his belly was filled.

"He's eating, Clara-bear," Tom said warmly.

"You mean he can't eat chocolate?" Clara asked, eyes wide with surprise as she looked at Mary who smiled.

"No, and not for some time," Sybil replied with a laugh, stroking Rory's fingers.

Clara watched her mother for a few minutes, her eyes pooling with tears as Sybil's attention was completely preoccupied by the baby. Mary shot an anxious look at Tom and he frowned, leaning forward to examine Clara's dejected expression.

"Clara, what's wrong?" Tom questioned as tears spilled from his daughter's eyes and her face scrunched up as she released a sob. Clara flung her arms around Tom's neck, burying her face in his neck as she cried inconsolably, her body shaking as she wailed loudly. Sybil looked up from her distraction over Rory, who had finished eating and was now waving his tiny fists around as though he were conducting Clara's cries.

"Clara, darling?" Sybil asked gently, fastening her hospital gown. "Mama?" she questioned, offering the baby to Cora so she could attend to Clara's sobs. Very happily, Cora took Rory into her arms, allowing Mary a closer look at her nephew as Clara cried so hard that she started coughing. Rory yawned as Sybil leaned toward his big sister, his eyes opening as he looked up at Cora without seeing much. Cora murmured softly at her grandson, dark eyelashes fluttering over big blue eyes that caused Mary to inhale sharply.

God, how she missed her husband's presence.

"My babby, what is it?" Tom crooned into Clara's hair, attempting to extract her arms from his neck. She only cried harder in response, kicking her feet angrily as Sybil's hand touched her back. "Clara, stop that," Tom said in a firm voice as her feet pummeled his thigh.

With one last wail, Clara went limp in Tom's arms, still crying as she allowed him to pull her away from his neck.

"Darling, shh," Sybil entreated, turning Clara's face toward her own, stroking Clara's tear-stained cheek. "Whatever is the matter?"

"You love the baby more than me!" Clara moaned suddenly, burying her face in Tom's chest. Sybil and Tom both frowned with worry, shooting Mary a concerned look before returning attention to their daughter.

"Oh, my love, that isn't true," Sybil insisted, reaching out to pull Clara into her arms. The little girl wailed, flinging herself at her mother who grimaced from Clara's unrealized strength. "Darling, we love you very, very much."

"But w-what about the b-baby?" Clara sobbed into Sybil's shoulder as her mother gently stroked her back.

"Clara, we love you both so much," Sybil said, causing Clara to lean away from her shoulder. Sybil pressed a kiss to the girl's forehead before wiping away her tears. "And Rory loves you, too."

Making a fist, Clara wiped at her eyes before looking warily toward her brother as he gurgled happily in Cora's arms. Cora shifted so Clara could have a better look. She frowned as she examined him, clearly not convinced of her mother's words.

"And, darling, there is nothing that could ever stop us from loving either of you. Nothing," Sybil assured her.

Clara sniffed, considering Sybil's words as she glanced between her parents. Tom tipped Clara's chin up with his hand, smiling with warmth.

"Do you understand, my love?" Sybil questioned.

"Yes, Ma," Clara said finally, burrowing into her mother's arms. Sybil tucked her chin over Clara's head, tightening her arms around her daughter.

"Did you have fun with Auntie Mary and Uncle Matthew last night?" Sybil asked her in a soft voice as Cora continued to be enthralled by her grandson.

"Yes," Clara replied, rubbing her eyes. "But Uncle Matthew wouldn't let me wear my dress to bed."

"What dress?" Sybil asked, glancing up at Mary with an amused look on her face.

"A pink one. It had a matching tiara," Mary explained, causing Sybil and Tom to laugh. "Matthew had quite an argument with her about it."

"You know you aren't allowed to sleep in your play clothes," Sybil reprimanded Clara gently. "I hope you apologized to your uncle, young lady."

"No, Ma," Clara said, avoiding her mother's gaze.

"Well, promise to apologize when you see him tonight," Tom said in a firm voice.

"Alright, Da," Clara agreed, head resting against Sybil's shoulder. "Uncle was wrestling Auntie this morning, so I think _he's_ the one who needs to apologize."

"Wrestling?" Sybil asked, confused as she looked at Mary. Clara was oblivious, playing with Sybil's fingers as she enjoyed the attention once more.

_Oh, God._

As the other adults turned to look at her, Mary felt all the blood drain from her cheeks, her throat turning dry. Sybil's eyes grew wide with shock and Tom snorted as he tried not to laugh while Cora looked rather stern.

"Mary, I can't believe you and Matthew would-" Cora began, her fury jostling Rory slightly, causing him to grunt in discomfort.

"Here, let me," Mary requested, extracting Rory from Cora's arms before she could object. She hoped the sight of holding her nephew would quench her mother's obvious anger. "Nothing happened, Mama," she added as she hoisted Rory to her shoulder, rubbing his warm back. He gurgled contentedly in her ear, obviously enjoying the change in posture.

"But you-" Cora protested again.

"No, we didn't," Mary interrupted. Tom doubled over with laughter, shaking as he pressed his face into the mattress.

"Well, at least it isn't as bad as when it happened to us," Tom practically barked, tears streaming from his eyes.

"Tom!" Sybil scolded, shoving his shoulder as he sat up and wiped at his eyes.

"I think I'll go see what's taking Robert so long with the coffee," Cora said uncomfortably, abandoning her chair as she headed for the corridor.

Mary took the empty seat, pulling Rory away from her shoulder to admire him better. "Sybil, I think he's going to have your eyes," she murmured as Tom's laughter died down. "He's so perfect."

Sybil smiled. "I never thought you'd take so well to my children."

"_Our_ children," Tom interjected with an eyebrow raise as he looked at his sister-in-law.

Mary sighed exasperatedly. "Yes, well, I'm afraid it took me a while to see your value, Tom. If only you weren't such a pest," she teased.

"What else are brothers for?" he replied jovially.

"There is no other reason for them," Sybil replied, smiling at her husband. "I hope Rory is a pest, just like you, Tom."

Rory hiccuped in response and Clara leaned forward to peer at him again.

"Just as long as he stays out of my room," she said solemnly, prompting a chuckle from the adults as Rory gurgled contentedly in his aunt's arms. "Although he can wear my tiara if he likes. It would match his hair."

The adults chuckled at Clara's words, Sybil pressing a kiss into her daughter's hair. Mary peered down at Rory, who seemed to have fallen asleep again. She smiled rather sadly down at the boy, trying not to let Tom or Sybil see the tears that had formed in her eyes once more. Unfortunately, Sybil noticed the change in her expression.

"Mary? What is it?" Sybil questioned. Mary blinked quickly, attempting to push the tears away.

"It's nothing," she said hastily, offering her sister a smile. "I just wish Matthew were here, is all."

"Didn't you see him this morning?" Sybil asked.

"Weren't you _wrestling_?" Tom interjected with mirth. Mary shot him a glare and he leaned back, obviously realizing she was not to be trifled with. "I'll check on your parents."

Sybil looked apologetically at her sister, reaching out to pat her knee before glimpsing at the sleeping Rory.

"What's wrong?" Sybil asked.

Mary sighed, drawing her index finger across Rory's blond head. "I've been such a mess lately. Hormonally. God, I never thought I'd want a baby this much," she murmured as she gazed at Rory once more, her stomach contracting with longing.

"Nor did I," Sybil replied as she helped Clara take her backpack off. The little girl searched inside until she'd found Bunny, hugging it to her chest as she leaned against Sybil again. "Nor did any of us, really. When did you change your mind?"

"Actually, it was after we watched Clara a few months ago," Mary admitted, chuckling as she met Sybil's eyes. "She's very sweet."

At the sound of her name, Clara had looked at Mary, smiling shyly as she hugged her rabbit tighter.

"When she's not arguing about pajamas," Sybil said fondly, ruffling Clara's hair with affection.

"Matthew did seem rather surprised he couldn't handle the situation as well as he wanted. Someone is rather stubborn," Mary replied.

"A family trait, I suppose," Sybil said, wrapping her arms around Clara. "Well, I can't tell you how thrilled I am by your change of heart. I know you'll be a wonderful mother, Mary."

"Sometimes I still wonder," Mary sighed, tracing her finger over Rory's tiny fist. "But Matthew doesn't doubt me."

"And why would he?" Sybil asked firmly.

"You are probably the only two people in the world who think I'm such a nice person," Mary said with a laugh.

"You're just determined, driven, intense," Sybil replied, smiling at her sister.

"Thank you, Mrs. Thesaurus," Mary quipped, causing Sybil to laugh. "I'm sure Edith would disagree."

"Yes, well, you're both a bit stubborn, aren't you?" Sybil asked, sticking out her tongue as Mary rolled her eyes. "But when you do get preganant, promise to tell me as soon as you find out."

Mary laughed, shifting Rory in her arms in order to take Sybil's hand in one of her own.

"Whatever you like, Sybil dear."

* * *

_What did you think of this chapter? :)_


	5. Chapter 5

_Once again, thanks to everyone who's reviewed and favorited so far. This story has been a lot of fun and I'm so glad you're all enjoying it._

_Regarding chapter three and the family's visit to the hospital while Sybil was in labor, in my experience, the number of people a hospital allows in a birthing room depends a lot on the mother's preference and where she's at in her labor (although I'm not 100% certain of this fact regarding UK hospitals). A few of you mentioned the fact that they didn't know anyone who would let so many people into their room (or their small child), but one of my friends had quite a lot of people (about 10 or so at one point...yes, IN THE ROOM!) visit her in the hospital, but only her husband was in the room with her while she was pushing. I have no idea why she let so many people visit, but this is why I didn't realize it was so far-fetched to have five people visiting while Sybil was in labor. Haha, I honestly didn't think it was that many! And actually, with her second child, my same friend did let her son visit her while she was in labor, but it was a pretty short visit. And I tried to allude to the same fact with Clara since Tom took her out of the room after a little bit). Sorry if my friend is super weird and giving me really bad/strange pregnancy information by letting a ton of people into her delivery room. She's the only person I've ever seen in labor! :P_

_Anyway, sorry about that long introduction, but I felt like I needed to explain a bit! Downton quotes are italicized as always._

_Enjoy!_

* * *

**Chapter Five**

"Uncle Matthew, look!"

Stifling a yawn, Matthew glanced up from his case file at the sound of Clara's entreaty, his eyes falling on the little girl as she sat on the floor near his feet. She was surrounded by crayons of every color, half-used sheets of paper, and one colorful drawing that lay at her feet. She picked it up so he could see it better, her eyes lighting up as she waited for a reaction.

It was the day after Rory's birth and Matthew was keeping an eye on Clara in the morning as Mary showered. The Bransons would return home in the afternoon, but Matthew was trying to convince Mary to let him skip a day at the office in order to meet his nephew.

"That's very pretty," Matthew told her, although he wasn't completely sure what he was looking at. Bright scribbles in various hues did little to help him to distinguish the subject of the drawing.

"It's me and Auntie!" Clara said proudly. "Can you tell?"

"Oh, yes," Matthew said, squinting as he tried to see two people rather than a blur of colors. "Which one is you, dear?"

"This one," Clara informed him, pointing to something Matthew could hardly make out to be a person. It had eyes, at least, and a mop of curly brown hair. Adjacent to it was another, taller blob with hair dark as the other but with eyes of brown rather than blue ones that matched Tom's.**  
**

"Ahh, I see now," he replied with a smile. Pleased with herself, Clara returned her attention to the drawing, picking up a pink crayon and scribbling it against the paper.

Matthew continued to watch Clara for a few minutes before he heard the sound of Mary's feet shuffling across the carpet toward the sofa. Upon reaching him, she bent down and kissed the back of his neck, encircling her arms around his neck and resting her cheek against his.

"I suppose you're going to tell me off for wanting to miss work again?" Matthew asked immediately.

"Why would I do that?" she asked, turning her head to look at him.

"I thought you said, 'The firm couldn't possibly spare you'?" he questioned. "Are you all out of clever ideas to get rid of me?"

"Darling, after nearly ten years, I thought you would realize that I am in possession of an infinite number of clever ideas," she murmured softly, her lips brushing against his ear. "Remember? _I should hate to be predictable._"

"Yes, well there may be a gap in my knowledge of you," he retorted with a chuckle, his hand softly brushing down her forearm. Mary slipped his earlobe between her teeth, the gentle pressure on his skin causing him to groan. "When will Sybil and Tom be here?"

Mary chuckled, pulling away in order to walk around the sofa. "Sometime after five," she said, taking a seat on the floor near Clara, who'd looked up at the sound of her parents' names.

"Ma and Da are coming home?" she asked excitedly, her eyes lighting up.

"Yes, they're bringing little Rory home," Mary said sweetly, reaching out to ruffle Clara's hair. The gentleness of his wife's voice caused Matthew to smile. _God, I love her so much_, he thought to himself.

Clara frowned suddenly, her nose wrinkling in annoyance. "Why?" she asked crossly.

Mary offered her a smile. "Rory's going to live here too, darling."

"Not in my room?" Clara asked, clearly worried that she would be forced to share her bed with the infant.

"No, in your parents' room," Mary told her. "Remember seeing the crib in there?"

Clara nodded, thoughtful for a few moments. "He cries a lot."

Matthew leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "Yes, darling, it's how he let's your parents know he needs something," he explained gently.

Mary turned her head, her eyes meeting his as she smiled and reclined against his leg. She traced her finger over his bare ankle, sending an uncontrollable shiver through Matthew. How did she know just where to touch him that would drive him mad?

"Do you think he'd like to play with Bunny sometimes?" Clara asked after another stint of silence, her eyes trained on a new drawing she had been working on before Mary came in. Matthew could see that it was a picture of her stuffed rabbit.

"That would be very kind of you, darling," Mary sad with emotion.

"Not that he can _have_ Bunny," Clara said emphatically. "But she can keep him company if he has nightmares. Sometimes. If she doesn't nee me."

"I'm sure Rory will love that," Matthew replied. "And he's going to love having such a thoughtful big sister."

Clara grinned. "Can we play horsey again, Uncle?"

"I don't know, sweetheart," Matthew said, remembering the ache in his knees at work the previous day.

"Oh, _please?_" Clara begged, getting to her feet and clasping her hands in front of her chest as she looked up into Matthew's face, jutting out her bottom lip.

"Uh-oh," Mary said, looking on with amusement.

"Clara," Matthew scolded her halfheartedly, unable to keep himself from laughing. "Fine," he conceded, picking his niece up off the floor as he got to his feet.

Matthew tossed her in the air and Clara squealed happily as Matthew placed her on her feet once more. He got on his hands and knees and Clara wasted no time climbing on his back.

"Giddy up," she insisted, driving her heels into his side. He neighed and smiled at the melodious sound of Mary's laugh as he carried Clara across the living room on his back.

* * *

"How much longer does she need to nap?" Matthew whispered, causing Mary to look up from her laptop screen where she was attempting to work on one of her freelance articles.

Her husband was laying on the sofa, Clara sprawled across his chest as she slept, her little fists clutching the fabric of his shirt so tightly it was impossible for him to even contemplate moving the little girl.

"Sybil told me she should sleep for at least an hour when she naps," Mary murmured back, smiling as Matthew sighed.

"How long has it been?" he asked.

"Forty minutes," Mary informed him. "You might as well take a nap, too."

"But I'm not tired," Matthew replied. Clara shifted on his chest and Matthew pressed his lips together for a few minutes to ensure that she didn't wake up. "Surprisingly, neither you or Tom interrupted my sleep last night."

"Well, don't get used to it," Mary retorted. "Just wait until we're home, Mr. Crawley."

"Don't tease me so," he moaned, causing Mary to chuckle. She stood, approaching the sofa.

"_I can if I want to,_" she breathed, running her fingers through Matthew's hair as she bent down to kiss him quickly. He laughed, causing Clara to stir again as there was a knock on the front door. "I'll get it."

Mary crossed the room as Matthew hummed a soft tune that she couldn't help but recognize. She cast a glance at him over her shoulder, noting the smile on his face as he met her eyes, his hand gently rubbing Clara's back. Turning back to the door, she pulled it open to reveal Sybil and Tom in the corridor. Tom's arms were laden with a baby carrier, inside which little Rory was fast asleep.

"Clara's napping," Mary murmured before either of them could speak.

"Best to keep it down then," Sybil replied, kissing Mary's cheek before entering the apartment, depositing the bag she was carrying by the front door. "How's she been today?"

"She's an angel," Mary replied as Sybil approached the sofa, nearly laughing as she saw Clara unconscious on Matthew's chest.

"Just a bit of a paperweight," Matthew whispered.

Sybil smiled, running her fingers through Clara's wild curls. Tom blundered inside, knocking Rory's carrier against the door with a loud bang.

"Bloody hell," he exclaimed as Rory began to cry. The noise roused Clara as well, who lifted her head from Matthew's chest, a startled expression on her face until she saw Sybil.

"Ma!" Clara squealed, pushing herself away from Matthew's chest in order to stand on top of him. He grunted in pain as Clara held her hands out to Sybil, who picked her daughter up before she could cause any more damage to Matthew's ribs.

"Hello, my darling," Sybil said happily. Clara flung her arms around her mother's neck and buried her face as Rory continued to wail. Tom set the carrier on the floor, his face apologetic as he unhooked the baby's seat restraints.

"Oh, my boy," Tom said in a calmer voice, scooping Rory up and cradling him to his chest. "Shh, Da's sorry, Rory-boy."

Finally free of Clara, Matthew sat up, his face a grimace as he smoothed down his hair. Mary sat on the corner of the couch, smirking at him. In response, Matthew playfully pinched her side, prompting her to slap his hand away. He grabbed her hand instead, lacing his fingers with hers before resting his chin on her leg.

"Ma, why is he crying?" Clara asked, watching with great interest as Tom tried to comfort the baby.

"Rory doesn't like to have his sleep interrupted," Sybil explained gently, kissing Clara's forehead.

With a thoughtful expression on her face, Clara leaned toward Tom, who had approached with little Rory wailing in his arms.

"It's okay, brother," Clara said simply, gazing at the baby who began to settle down.

As Mary absentmindedly stroked Matthew's hair, she couldn't help but smile as she watched Clara's eyes on her brother, who hiccuped a few times as his tiny wails ceased. Tom kissed the baby's forehead and murmured softly to the baby, causing Rory to stare calmly back at him.

"Ma, do you think Rory would like to meet Bunny?" Clara asked her mother, her blue eyes wide.

Sybil chuckled, kissing Clara's hair before setting her feet on the floor. "That would be very nice, darling."

Clara grinned at Mary before toddling to her bedroom in search of her stuffed rabbit.

"So, you haven't had any more shouting matches over pajamas?" Sybil asked as they waited for Clara's return.

"None whatsoever," Matthew said. "I think Clara has finally accepted me into the family."

"She is rather an opinionated little woman, isn't she? I think it runs in the family," Tom asked, side-eyeing Sybil cautiously.

"I won't slap you, but only because you're holding my son," she replied, wrinkling her nose playfully as Tom shifted Rory in his arms.

"The same goes for me," Mary interjected with a laugh.

Clara returned, dragging Bunny by the arm as she cross the carpet. Instead of going to her mother, she climbed onto the sofa by Matthew and pushed him away from Mary so she could climb into his lap. Matthew laughed in surprise, ruffling Clara's curls as she set the rabbit on her knee, her eyes look up at the other adults expectantly.

"Okay, Bunny's ready," she said with authority, a determined expression on her face that Mary couldn't help but smile at. Behind her, she heard Tom laugh as he approached with Rory who was now completely relaxed once more.

"Mary, would you like to hold him?" Tom asked.

She felt Matthew's eyes on her as tears stung her own at Tom's unexpected consideration.

"Of course," Mary said, ignoring everyone's concerned glances as she took the baby into her arms. "Hello, darling," she said softly.

Rory gurgled happily gripping Mary's index finger with his chubby fist as Clara leaned forward to look at her baby brother. Matthew peered over Clara's shoulder to look at his nephew, whose hair seemed even blonder than the day before. She felt the ache rise in her chest and Matthew's eyes met hers again, a look of understanding passing between them. He reached over and laid his hand on her leg, the warmth of his palm instantly calming her.

"Rory, this is Bunny," Clara explained, holding her rabbit up to the baby's face. "She's your cousin. We don't have any other cousins right now, but Auntie Mary said she's working on it."

Matthew snorted at her statement, planting a kiss in the little girl's hair as Tom erupted behind his wife.

"Clara!" Sybil scolded while Tom buried his face in her back, his tremors shaking her body.

"What?" Clara asked in confusion.

"It's alright," Mary insisted with a smile. "She's right."

"In fact, I hope she'll work on that tonight," Matthew interjected with a chuckle.

"Shut up and meet your nephew," Mary retorted, shifting the baby in her arms so Matthew could get a better look. Her cheeks were red, but she ignored them.

Offering her an impish look, Matthew glanced down at Rory, who stretched as he enjoyed the changing posture.

"Hello there, little Rory," Matthew murmured gently, tracing his finger over the baby's cheek.

"I don't think we look alike," Clara said suddenly, wrinkling her nose as she looked at her brother.

Matthew gasped dramatically, leaning forward to look between Clara and the baby. "Oh, Clara! I think Rory stole your nose!"

Clara giggled as Matthew pretended to steal her nose and deposit it on the baby's face.

"No he didn't," she insisted, patting her own nose insistently. "It's right here, Uncle Matthew!"

"So it is," Matthew said, mock surprise on his face. "I guess he just has the same one."

Clara rolled her eyes and Tom laughed, picking the little girl off Matthew's lap and tossing her in the air.

"Da!" Clara protested, still giggling despite the fact that her stuffed rabbit flew out of her hands and landed on the other side of the room.

"They really do look alike," Mary murmured as Tom distracted Clara. Sybil sighed with exhaustion, settling herself gingerly on the sofa's far arm.

"I wish the two of you could stay forever," Sybil admitted, pushing a curtain of hair over her shoulder. "But we're so grateful to you both for staying with Clara for the last few days. Really."

"Sybil darling, think no more about it. You know I would do anything for you. We both would," Mary insisted, planting a kiss on Rory's forehead. Matthew continued to gaze at her, but she ignored him. There would be plenty of time for that later. "Clara is wonderful and we're happy to watch her any time. And the same goes for Rory, once you're comfortable enough, don't hesitate to ask if you and Tom need a night off."

"Well, as long as the two of you aren't busy with...other pursuits," Sybil replied, smirking as she gazed at Rory once again. Tom laughed loudly and Mary rolled her eyes.

"God, the three of you, I swear," Mary muttered, unable to think of a better response as she stroked Rory's hair.

Sybil laughed, taking Rory from Mary's arms. "I'm sure you'd both like to get home," she said knowingly.

"I hope I at least get a decent dinner first," Mary replied.

"That's right, Matthew. Wine and dine her," Tom suggested with a wink at Matthew.

"Don't turn on me, Tom. _We're brothers-in-law with high-minded wives. We better stick together_," Matthew retorted smartly.

* * *

"I'm _never_ taking advice from Tom ever again," Matthew vowed in a solemn voice.

Mary laughed, tucking her arm into Matthew's as they headed for the lift to their flat, each carrying suitcases from the stay at the Bransons.

"Well, next time we won't go there for dinner, alright? I just thought that since it's sort of a special occasion, we could try it. Or that's what you said before I suggested we go there," she said gently.

"It is. But next time we go out, let's try to avoid all hen parties. I can't put up with any more rowdy bridesmaids shouting 'chug' over our conversation," he insisted, raking his hand through his hair.

"I agree wholeheartedly," Mary replied, planting a kiss on his cheek as they headed down the corridor.

Matthew paused, his key hovering over the lock.

"What is it?" Mary asked, looking at Matthew with confusion.

"I have a surprise for you," he said.

"A surprise? You were with me all day," Mary told him. She frowned and he smiled.

"I know you hate surprises," he said, tilting her chin up. "But you won't hate this one."

He kissed her quickly and Mary sighed in resignation.

"Just take me inside, Crawley," she demanded, still frowning.

He laughed, kissing her forehead before unlocking the door and pushing it aside. Mary stepped inside first, flicking on one of the lamps as she dropped her suitcase on the floor.

"Oh, Matthew," she breathed, her eyes gazing down at the floor which was covered in a path of rose petals that led to their bedroom. She turned to him, her eyes shining, although she still looked confused. "How did you do this?"

"Tom," Matthew replied, following after her as she made her way across the flowers and moved into the bedroom. "He came by this morning, while Sybil and the baby were asleep."

She turned on the overhead light, viewing the end table Tom had laid with champagne, glasses, and a box containing cakes from Mary's favorite bakery. Matthew watched as she covered her mouth in surprise, tracing her fingers along the empty ice bucket.

"But whatever will we do while the champagne chills?" Mary asked, turning her head to look at him.

"Well, I have a couple of ideas," he murmured in reply, closing the gap between them.

"I usually like your ideas," she whispered in a voice that made Matthew's knees feel like jelly as she wrapped her arms around his neck, one hand mussing up the back of his hair.

Matthew pulled her close, his hands slipping down her torso. "You're going to love this one," he said, gently kissing the space behind her ear.

"But what about the ice?" she sighed as his lips traced a line down her neck, her fingers gripping his hair.

"Just one detour," he entreated, gazing into her eyes as he led her over to the bed.

Mary kissed him suddenly, easily pulling him down onto the bed while her lips moved against his. She quickly unhooked the button on his trousers, tugging them below his hips before unbuttoning his shirt.

"Wow, you're really good at this," Matthew commented, admiring her ability to undress him in less than thirty seconds.

"Well, I've had a lot of practice, you know," Mary breathed, leaning up to trap his earlobe between her teeth.

"A little bit more couldn't hurt," he whispered, a moan escaping his lips as she bit down harder.

He thumbs fumbled with Mary's trousers, taking longer to add them to the pile of laundry slowly building on the floor. After a few more minutes, he tossed her shirt aside, although he heard a faint rip as the fabric caught on her ring. Mary sat up, her hand on his shoulder to stop him from kissing her again.

"Did you just rip my shirt?" she asked, a frown on her face.

"I'll replace it," Matthew said hastily, trying to kiss her.

"You had better," Mary shot back before hooking her leg around his, their lips coming together once more.

Matthew couldn't help but grin at her insistence, his heart racing excitedly as her tongue parted his lips and she pulled his shorts off his waist, her hands hot as they moved against his skin. He settled closer to her, every thought of chilling the champagne disappearing from his mind.

* * *

_Thoughts?_


	6. Chapter 6

_Thank you for all your kind responses regarding the previous chapter and this who story so far. I'm having a lot of fun and your enjoyment of the story is so encouraging._

_Unfortunately, I'm going out of town for the coming week to visit some friends and go to a wedding next weekend, so I really doubt there will be any time for me to write. This means it will be two weeks until the next chapter is updated. I'm really sorry about that, but I've been working on some other things for MM AU fest on Tumblr, so I haven't had a chance to get ahead. Please forgive me and I'll do my best to write the next chapter as soon as I'm back. *HUGS*_

_Downton belongs to Julian Fellowes and any show quotes are italicized._

_Enjoy!_

* * *

**Chapter Six**

Mary yawned wide, blinking her eyes furiously as she finished typing the sentence she was in the middle of writing. After completing the thought, she pushed herself away from the desk, crossing to the kitchen in order to brew a cup of tea and hopefully remedy a heavy fatigue that had been plaguing her body.

She'd been awake since six that morning, unable to sleep in the emptiness of the bedroom. Matthew had been gone for the past three days, on a business trip for the firm that had taken him to a conference in Paris for nearly a week. At first, Mary had been grateful for the extra room to stretch out on their bed, the ability to claim all the covers as her own and settle down with a good book before drifting off, but a nightmare on her first night alone had dissolved all her enjoyment of sleeping alone.

It had been the middle of the night when it jarred her awake. The vision of Matthew cradling what could have only been their child, his eyes on her as the dream went terribly wrong and she forced herself awake.

_"Mary? Darling, what is it?" Matthew's groggy voice spoke quietly across the line. She had called him as soon as she'd calmed herself down enough to be able to speak. _

_She heard him move from the room, listening as he shut himself in the bathroom before speaking. "I don't want to wake Watson. He'll probably kill me," Mathew said in a whisper_

_She'd wiped her eyes quickly, horrified by his last sentence and the memory of the dream she'd just had._

_"Oh, God, it's nothing," Mary muttered. "I just miss you."_

_"Did you have a nightmare?" Matthew asked quickly. "You almost never wake up in the middle of the night."_

_"Our room's so empty without you," she replied truthfully. "Why couldn't I have come with you to Paris?"_

_"I know, I'm sorry," he said. "But you know the hotel was completely booked for the conference. We had to double-up just so we didn't have to stay across town. Plus, I'm in meetings all day. You hardly would have seen me at all."_

_"Still, I hate this," she whispered. "Come home soon."_

_"As quick as I can, my love," Matthew said. "I miss you, too, you know."_

_"Good," Mary quipped, forcing her voice to be lighter._

_"I'll call you tomorrow, Mary," he said, a smile in his words._

_"You had better," she replied._

_"Goodnight. I love you," Matthew murmured._

_"I love you, too."_

_When Mary hung up the phone, she had pilled all the pillows at the head of the bed on Matthew's side and drawn the blanket up to her chin as she laid against them. But she'd hardly slept for the rest of the night, so worried was she by her dream. And how desperately she missed her husband._

Back in the present, Mary filled the kettle with water and set it on the range, igniting the flame beneath the burner before opening the cupboard in search of a tea bag. Retrieving the tin of Earl Grey, Mary popped the lid off the top and peered inside.

"Damn," she muttered as she viewed the empty canister. Her eyes went to the bag of coffee on the shelf, but she didn't want it. The smell reminded her too much of Matthew and she almost never drank the stuff if he wasn't there to enjoy it with her.

She tried to remember the last time she'd had tea. Why hadn't she realized the tin was empty? Why hadn't she added it to the grocery list?

Suddenly she blushed as she remembered what had happened, the reason she'd forgotten about taking the last tea bag over five weeks ago...

_Mary was seated on the sofa, marking her pen through a jumbled sentence as her tea brewed on the side table. It was late afternoon and Matthew was due home at any time, but she was in the middle of proofing an article._

_The front door swung open and he meandered inside. Mary looked up and offered him a quick smile before returning her attention to the page in front of her._

_"Good afternoon to you, too," Matthew said, his voice closer than Mary expected. She turned just as he took her earlobe between his teeth, his breath hot against her cheek._

_"I'm sorry, darling. I'm working on my article," she murmured, sighing as he pushed her curtain of hair aside to allow his lips to move down her neck._

_"Take a break," he growled against her skin, extracting the paper from her hands._

_"Matthew," Mary scolded as he set the papers aside before returning his lips to the space where her neck and shoulder met. "I just made tea."_

_"Make more later," he instructed, his hands massaging her shoulders._

_A moan escaped her lips as Matthew bit down on the place where his lips had been exploring moments before._

_"You're incorrigible, Mr. Crawley," she protested, gliding her fingers through his hair._

_"Yes, I am, Mrs. Crawley."_

_Mary laughed and turned to face him, her knees resting on the seat cushion as she grabbed the front of his shirt._

_"Well, let me relieve some of your wickedness, hmm?" she purred, slowly unbuttoning the shirt and slipping it off his shoulders before planting a line of kisses down the length of his torso._

_"Oh, please do," he entreated, his breathing heavy as Mary brought her face up to his level, slipping her legs over the back of the sofa to seat herself on it._

_He kissed her hard, his hands sliding down her waist to grip her bum. Mary wrapped her legs around Matthew's hips, pulling his hips against her, roughly raking her fingers across his scalp. She slipped her tongue between his lips, forcing it into his mouth as Matthew picked her up from the sofa. But instead of carrying her to their bedroom, he deposited her heavily on the floor, tugging off her trousers and blouse before she realized what had happened._

_"Really, in the living room?" she said, voice strained as his teeth dug into her skin._

_"Would you have preferred the kitchen? I know you like to play with your food before you eat it," he rumbled in a low voice, his hands roving across her nearly naked skin and playing with the waistband of her underwear before sliding them off her hips._

_"Arse," Mary retorted with a pleasurable groan, roughly pulling Matthew's trousers and pants off in one movement. She pulled his face back to hers, wrapping her legs around his bare waist and drawing his skin down to hers._

Mary inhaled sharply, laughing at the memory and Matthew's eagerness. She turned off the kettle, moving it off the burner before leaving the room to find a pair of shoes so she could walk down to the store to buy tea.

As she headed out, Mary grabbed her keys and purse, retrieving her mobile off the coffee table. She absentmindedly turned on the screen, her eyes sliding over the time and flicking down to the date. The 23rd.

She stopped suddenly, hand poised over the doorknob as she stared at the phone. She unlocked the screen with a swipe, bringing up the calendar and flipping to the previous month, her mind racing as she racked her brain.

"Oh, my God," Mary said.

In a rush, she left the flat, her feet hurrying the three blocks to the nearest drugstore. She completely ignored the empty tea canister that had all but disappeared from her thoughts.

Upon entering the store she headed for the aisle she had been avoiding for the past eight months every time she'd gone in for cold medicine or to pick up some mascara. Her eyes raked over her choices for the current errand, selecting a box haphazardly before turning to exit the aisle. She glimpsed a container of vitamins and added it to her load, her heart still pounding furiously.

Not wanting to deal with the looks from the store's staff, Mary used the self-checkout before getting the hell out of the store, her hands shaking as she carried her purchases away.

Once locked away in the safety of her bathroom, Mary's shaky hands retrieved the box from the plastic bag. She read the directions on the box twice before tearing it open and pulling out one of the slender sticks. Taking deep breaths, Mary followed the directions carefully, setting the used stick aside as she set an alarm on her phone to go off after the time the box said it would take for results to appear.

As she waited, she shut her eyes tight, not daring to look at the piece of plastic that would determine her fate. After what seemed like ages the alarm sounded, sending a jolt through her heart as she eased her eyes open, squinting at the test.

"Oh, my God."

She picked up the plastic stick, her heart stopping as her eyes fell on the digital reading.

"Pregnant."

* * *

Mary knocked repeatedly, waiting with bated breath for the door to be opened. Seconds later it was pulled aside, revealing a rather confused Sybil with Clara at her heels.

"Auntie Mary!" Clara squealed excitedly, holding her arms up to Mary.

"Mary, what are you doing here?" Sybil asked as she ushered Mary inside.

"Sorry, I should have called," Mary replied, in a haze as she lifted Clara off the floor, kissing the little girl's cheek. Sybil shut the door, following Mary to the sofa.

Both sisters sat down, Mary's eyes falling on her nephew who lay on the floor on his belly, his head wobbling on a still-unsteady neck while he cooed happily.

"Don't worry about it," Sybil replied, concern on her face as she examined Mary's face. Clara was playing with her aunt's hair, but Mary hardly noticed. "What's the matter?"

"Could we talk in private?" Mary asked, not wanting Clara to overhear.

"Darling, why don't you go put on your play dress and we'll have a tea party with your auntie?" Sybil suggested to her daughter immediately.

"But I don't-"

"Yes, Clara, we'll have a tea party," Mary agreed, setting the little girl on the floor. Clara gave them a woeful look before slinking out of the room.

"Now, what is it?" Sybil asked as Rory gurgled at their feet.

Mary turned her head to meet Sybil's eyes, covering her hand with her mouth as she released a laugh.

"Sybil, I'm...I'm pregnant," Mary said with a smile as she dropped her hand.

"Oh, my God!" Sybil said excitedly, throwing her arms around Mary's neck. "When did you find out?"

"Just a few hours ago. I realized I was late and I went to the drugstore and bought a box of tests. Both were positive."

"Oh, my God!" Sybil repeated. "What did Matthew say?"

Mary shook her head. "He's still in Paris."

"You mean Matthew doesn't know?" Sybil asked, her eyes wide over the top of her hand covering her surprised mouth. "Why haven't you told him?"

"Suppose I'm wrong or something happens? Promise you won't tell anyone that I'm pregnant, not even Tom, until I'm sure," Mary entreated.

"Of course I won't, you can count on me," Sybil agreed. "A baby, Mary, wow."

"I called my doctor and scheduled an appointment two days from now. God, I'm nervous," Mary murmured, her fingers straying to her normal-looking abdomen, hardly daring to believe there was life emerging there.

"Everything will be fine, Mary," Sybil said emphatically. "Oh, Matthew's going to be so pleased."

"I know," Mary murmured. "I'm still in shock, to be honest. It's been eight months since we started trying. I never really thought it would happen."

"I can't wait for you to tell Matthew," Sybil replied as Clara returned to the room, plastic tiara balanced on her head. "He's going to fall on the floor."

"I'm ready for the tea party," Clara said, a little imperiously. She stuck her nose in the air and Mary couldn't help but laugh.

"Why don't you help Auntie Mary set out the tea things and I'll boil the water?" Sybil asked her daughter with a smirk. Clara nodded, heading for the kitchen while the adults got to their feet. "God, she reminds me of you when we were younger. Ordering Edith and me around. Didn't you have a tiara, too?"

"You know, I think the entire family remembers me incorrectly. I was a delight," Mary retorted as they walked to the kitchen.

"Yes, our delightful Queen," Sybil replied.

* * *

The anxiety Mary felt over the next two days was torturous, almost rendering it impossible for her to do any work. She longed to tell Matthew about the pregnancy, but she didn't want to give him false hope in case the tests had been wrong.

What if she wasn't actually pregnant?

Trying to fall asleep the night before her doctor's appointment, doubts about the pregnancy and her ability to be a mother crept into her thoughts. Starring at the ceiling in the dark, she wished she could call Matthew again, but it was after one in the morning and it wasn't fair of her to wake him up again. Not when his roommate for the week might be woken as well. And it wasn't as though he hadn't called her earlier in the evening, but the rushed conversation informing her he would be home around eight the next evening had been anything but satisfactory. And she'd hardly dared to let him know what was really weighing on her mind.

Mary adjusted the pillows, making a pile on Matthew's side of the bed before settling back against them. Her thoughts strayed to the possibility that new life was forming inside of her while her fingers moved absentmindedly to her stomach. She gently pressed her fingers to her skin, hardly daring to believe that in less than a year she might be a mother. Again, she desperately wished Matthew was with her. He always knew what to say when she doubted herself.

After another restless night of sleep and a long morning of waiting, Mary left the flat for her appointment. So anxious was she that as she sat in the waiting room her hands began to shake. She jumped every time the door opened and another patient's name was called. And her heart started racing when hers was.

"Mary?"

She looked up from the magazine she'd been flipping through without seeing any of the pages, meeting the eyes of the nurse who would lead her to the exam room.

"The doctor will see you now," the nurse said. Feeling queasy, Mary got to her feet and followed the nurse out of the waiting room.

After some preliminary checks done by the nurse and being forced into an examination gown, Mary anxiously waited for the doctor to appear. A swift knock was followed by the entrance of the doctor, who smiled at Mary before setting her chart on the counter.

"So, you think you might be pregnant, Mary?" she asked.

"I took a pregnancy test and it was positive," Mary replied. She wiped her sweaty hands against the hem of her gown.

"Well, pregnancy tests are rarely inaccurate, but of course a routine check would be in order," the doctor said.

Mary waited in silence as the doctor conducted a pelvic exam, making innocuous noises throughout the check.

"So?" Mary prompted, unable to wait any longer.

"Yes, I am quite certain that you're pregnant, Mary," she replied, tossing her used rubber gloves in the rubbish bin and allowing Mary to sit up. "I'd like to do an ultrasound and you'll be able to see your baby. I'll be back in just a moment."

She left and Mary released a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding.

"Oh, God, this is really happening," she murmured to herself, a pleased smiled turning up the corners of her mouth.

After the ultrasound, during which the doctor pointed out a small blotch that looked like a peanut that was apparently the baby, Mary headed out of the exam room, arms laden with a few books her doctor had given her on pregnancy. She crossed the waiting room where only an hour before she had sat ridden with anxiety, now feeling lighter and happier than before.

"Mary?"

The sound of her name spoken by such a familiar voice was a relief. But the sight of Anna Bates caused Mary to smile immediately. She crossed the room to her best friend as the little boy at her side hid his face in her arm.

"What are you doing here?" Mary asked as Anna hugged her tightly.

"Alex has a bit of a cold," Anna explained, ruffling her son's blond curls. "Alex, say 'hello' to Mary, dear."

"Hello," Alex murmured, his shy face peeking out from behind his mother.

"Don't you remember me, Alex?" Mary asked, crouching in front of the little boy with a smile on her face.

Alex scrunched his lips together thoughtfully, his big blue eyes looking carefully at her before he broke into a smile.

"That's my boy," Mary replied, kissing the little boy's cheek. Alex grinned and Mary nearly laughed at how surprised Anna looked.

"What are you doing here?" Anna asked, smiling, although Mary could see a bit of confusion in her friend's eyes.

"I, um, had an appointment," Mary said, her eyes unintentionally dropping to the books in her arms. Anna followed her gaze, glimpsing the title of the top book. Her eyes lit up as she met Mary's gaze again.

"Mary? Are you pregnant?" she asked excitedly, reaching to take Mary's arm.

Mary pressed her lips together, Anna's excitement increasing her own. "Yes. The doctor just confirmed it."

"Oh, Mary!" Anna squealed, throwing her arms around her friend's neck and hugging her tightly. "I can't believe you didn't tell me you were trying!"

"I know, I know, I'm an awful friend," Mary sighed, pulling away from Anna. "We were trying to keep it quiet. Just in case it didn't happen. But I promise to keep you updated on everything from now on."

"I'll call you once a day if you don't. At the most inconvenient times, I swear I will," Anna replied.

"I don't doubt it," Mary replied with a smirk.

After Anna and Alex got called in to see their pediatrician, Mary left to make a stop at the grocery store and then returned to the flat to tidy up and start on a late dinner for Matthew. Upon returning to the flat, she prepared a roast just the way he liked it and set it in the oven to bake, relaxing on the sofa as she waited for the timer to go off and signal when she needed to start the rest of the meal. She flipped through one of the pregnancy books she'd gotten at the doctor's office, learning a bit more than she presently wanted to know about 'tearing' during labor.

After prepping the rest of the food, Mary returned to the sofa, grabbing a blanket as she opened the book to where she had left off, pulling the sonogram picture the doctor had given her out of the pages. She smiled at the blurry photograph before tucking it into the front of the book. Her eyes flicked away to glance at the clock and momentarily watch the minute hand moving slowly toward eight o'clock and the supposed time Matthew would appear.

The time Matthew had designated as his arrival came and went, filling Mary with bitter disappointment. Dinner was already getting cold on the tabletop. The bottle of wine she'd gotten for Matthew had been ready to drink half an hour ago. Mary was starving, so she helped herself to the food, growing increasingly annoyed as Matthew still didn't arrive.

The clock neared ten and Mary was forced to put the food away, lest it go bad on the table. As she slammed the refrigerator door, the front door clicked open and Matthew entered, sighing as he met her cross gaze.

"I'm so sorry I'm late," Matthew apologized, leaving his suitcase by the door before heading into the kitchen. He kissed her cheek quickly, sniffing the air with interest. "Did you make a roast?"

"It's put away now. If you'd been here sooner, it would have been fresh," she muttered, grabbing the bottle of wine and corking it.

"Oh, sorry, I picked something up before we left Heathrow," he said quickly. "It was so late, I thought you would have already eaten and I'm glad to see you have. And we got held up in customs for some ungodly reason. Trust me, I would have loved to have been here with you."

"It doesn't matter," she said without conviction, pulling away from him to put up the wine. She sighed. "There's something I need to tell you, darling."

She added the last word despite her annoyance, not wanting their first night back together to be marred by an argument. Not when something so pressing was on her mind.

But at that moment Matthew yawned and headed for the sofa. After sitting, he placed his feet on the coffee table as he reclined, covering the pregnancy book with his feet without realizing what it was. Matthew sighed, running his hands through his hair as Mary settled cautiously beside him on the sofa. Her heart raced as she watched him, waiting for him to speak. God, she was nervous. And thrilled. And he didn't suspect a thing.

"That conference lasted forever, didn't it? It feels like it's been ages since I've seen you, but all I want to do is lie down for about four days," Matthew said tiredly, slumping against the back of the sofa. "But you had something to tell me, didn't you?"

"Yes," Mary said quickly, her eyes glistening happily as they met his. "Matthew, we're going to have a baby."

Matthew lifted his head from the sofa, his mouth falling open as her words hit him suddenly.

"What?" he asked blankly, his eyes shocked as he stared at her.

_Oh, God_, Mary thought to herself as she looked at her husband's stunned face, her stomach feeling as though she'd missed a step.

* * *

_Thoughts?_


End file.
